


World's Finest: Red Robin & Robin

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [81]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Identities, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Bat Pets, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Gang Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, No Romance, Past Character Death, Past Kidnapping, Protective Older Brothers, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 01:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: In which Tim and Damian team up and have a few needed discussions, Dick gets some reassurance that he's loved, and Damian gets a pet alpaca (sort of).Damian didn't know where it would go, this path they’d started upon. He knew he was likely to lose his temper or lash out at several points along the way.He also knew he wanted to see where that road lead them.





	World's Finest: Red Robin & Robin

**Author's Note:**

> Dick’s insecurities (and utter devotion, but that’s not as issue specific) mentioned here are from Batman: Gotham Knights #14. Great read. I highly recommend it and the issues leading up to it. The events between Tim and Bruce mentioned are from his Robin run. The incident with the Joker kidnapping Tim mentioned is from another story in this series (['Last Laugh, First Steps'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281652)) and not the animated film featuring the same villain kidnapping the same Robin.

Damian quickly discovered that having a friend whose older brothers were two of his own brothers’ friends was very convenient. Timothy and Conner visited each other quite often, at least every other weekend. Conner never had any issue dropping Jon off at the Manor when coming to see his friend and Timothy was never opposed to bringing Damian along if he wanted to spend time with Jon at the Kent home. Sometimes Jason came along, sometimes, he didn’t. On the drive to Metropolis, they usually had Timothy’s phone plugged into the car speakers, and were talking to their friends while en route. They made plans to pick up any food or supplies they might want while they were hanging out. Sometimes they ran an errand for their father or Clark or Lois on the way there. 

While at the Kents, they sometimes all hung out together, playing games or helping their friends with some projects around the farm. Normally, they each did their own thing with their own best friend. Even when they interacted during those times, it tended to be...pleasant. Jason and Conner each had no qualms in telling Damian when he’d crossed a line, which he first found irritating, but he’d since come to find the guidelines helpful. So much so that Jon and Bizarro had even taken to pointing out when he wasn’t being nice enough to his brother or friend. Damian also found that his brothers didn’t bother him as much around their friends as when they were with Dick or his father. 

When it was just him and Timothy, as it was that day, the drive home from Metropolis always felt a little strange. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable so much as Damian was aware that he probably should try to say something to Timothy. It was always in the back of his mind that his father, Dick, and Pennyworth would each want him to. He rarely could think of anything that wasn’t insulting and he figured that would defeat the point, so he normally stayed quiet. 

For his part, Timothy seemed perfectly happy to drive in silence or with only the radio filling the car. On the occasion that Damian did say something, usually to ask a question about one of his pets or a case their father had solved that he still hadn’t quite figured out himself, Timothy answered him simply. He never made a big deal about it either way, which Damian appreciated. He _hated_ asking for help, so having it given without any fuss was the only way he could accept it without starting a fight. Especially with Timothy.

Lately, Damian had also taken to asking Timothy about their father at times, about how to manage his personality and expectations. About how to see whether he even wanted you there or not. Timothy was good with those questions. He understood them. He never tried to coddle his brother or assure him that anything was just in his mind. He simply told him how to interpret some of their father’s subtleties and how to find the truth of the matter. 

Which was why Damian, well, he didn’t feel _bad_ so much as he recognized that what he’d done wasn’t the wisest move when he and his least favored siblings had reached some sort of truce. He knew he shouldn’t have made the comment about being Bruce’s only _real son_ when asked if he was proud of his ‘brother’s latest achievement at Wayne Enterprises’. His father had talked to him about not doing that, but the reporter had came out of nowhere with her questions and it was simply Damian’s nature to respond with venom and superiority. 

The thing was, Timothy hadn’t mentioned it. No one had mentioned it besides his father. He doubted Timothy had failed to see it. The other boy was far too aware of everything that might affect the family or family business to allow himself to remain ignorant. Damian also knew his father’s sudden intent to squash his tendency to point out the very true fact that he was the only biological heir was initially born from something Jason had said. 

Damian didn’t want to get on Jason’s bad side. That was the brother that didn’t pull his punches, physically or verbally. Not that he thought Jason would become violent with him, not over a simple, if ill-advised, comment. But if he had a problem with Damian, then they were going to address it. There would be no compromise and no looking the other way, no matter what excuse Damian could offer. 

Moreover, he’d discovered that Jason was the one to talk to when he didn’t know how to control his anger or when his violent urges were growing a little too strong to manage well. He couldn’t afford to lose such a valuable asset when he’d been making good progress.

He also knew Jason and Timothy were close. They favored each other the way Damian and Dick favored each other. Anything that affected one of them would influence the other. Anything that hurt one would upset the other. Anything that saddened one would anger the other. Anyone who harmed one would face the other. 

Yet neither of them had brought up the article. At least, they hadn’t _yet_. 

Damian didn’t want to wait to see if it was going to be a problem. 

He tried very hard to keep his tone conversational rather than challenging. “Drake, did you by any chance read the Gotham Inquisitor recently?”

“Not fully. I mean, its the _Inquisitor_.” Timothy’s tone altered just enough to make it clear he had a poor opinion of the periodical. “But I read the article that included you. I have an alert set up for whenever a member of the family is mentioned in any news or tabloid articles online.” Timothy sounded calm, neutral. 

As far as Damian could tell, anyway.

That was part of the problem with talking to Timothy. Somehow, his tells eluded Damian. 

He could tell when he was pushing his father too far. He could tell when he’d hurt Dick or angered Jason. He could tell when Alfred, Dick, or his father were disappointed in him. He could even tell when Cassandra was distracted or bothered by something, although he never really had to read her in regards to himself as she simply told him where he stood with her. 

Yet he couldn’t read Timothy for the life of him. It pissed him off. This boy shouldn’t be able to cloak his feelings so well, no matter his training from some of the world’s best assassins and time spent working with Batman. Damian was the son of Batman. He was the son of Talia al Ghul. He should be better than him.

“Was there something you wanted to discuss about it?” Timothy’s voice was still calm, but here was a genuine question in it. Because Timothy wanted Damian to know he was genuinely willing to talk about it if that’s what Damian wanted or needed. He was _allowing_ it to bleed through, while still hiding his feelings on the topic itself. 

Damian was growing more irritated, but he still tried to keep his tone conversational. He wasn’t as successful as he’d have liked. It irked him to think that Timothy was winning whatever this contest was. “What did you think of it?”

“I don’t think much of the Inquisitor. The questions weren’t anything unique or particularly interesting.” Timothy spoke conversationally, as though Damian weren’t asking for something more specific. Before Damian could demand he stop pretending to have misunderstood the question, he answered it. “You did well in not giving them anything they could twist into a scandal, beyond the ‘only heir’ part, but that’s hardly newsworthy at this point.” 

Timothy paused, then added, his tone and expression still too even, too neutral, if thoughtful. “Actually it might be smart to keep using it. It gives them something they can treat as a scandal while not giving them anything a reputable news source might look into. Still, you might want to refrain from phrasing it as you being Bruce’s only ‘_real son_’. It would be better to stick to the ‘true heir’ line.”

“Why? Did it hut your feelings?” Damian would have sighed at his own mocking tone if it wouldn't have been a sign of weakness. He hadn’t meant to strike out at Timothy just then. It was a reflex. He couldn’t help it sometimes. He didn’t know how to lick the wound without sacrificing his pride, which he would never do. 

His thoughts derailed entirely when Timothy answered. 

“No, it hurts _Dick’s_ feelings when you say that.”

Damian turned his head to look at Timothy. He looked calm, yet slightly concerned. There wasn’t anything to suggest he wasn’t being honest. Damian didn’t like the thought that he might have hurt his favorite brother, so he demanded an explanation immediately. “How do you know that?”

Timothy’s voice remained calm, and his expression remained neutral, but there was a change in his eyes. It might have been sadness. Damian wasn’t sure, but the information that followed was more important than trying to read the other boy.

“Because I know _him_.” Before Damian could remind Timothy that _he_ knew Dick quite well, the other boy amended that statement. “Differently than you do.” 

It annoyed Damian that Timothy could apparently read him without issue, but he bit back a scathing remark (or twelve) in order to learn how he might have hurt Dick. 

“Being Bruce’s son...it means as much to Dick as being Batman’s son means to you. Dick wasn’t sure about it for a long time; whether Bruce saw him that way, whether he loved him that way. He told me he was terrified when he started approaching his eighteenth birthday, until Bruce brought up the adoption. He’d been scared because he was only Bruce’s ward back then. He hated that, even the word ‘ward’, because it stopped meaning anything once he became an adult, and he didn’t know where that would leave him. He didn’t know where it would leave _them_.”

Damian hadn’t known that. He’d never even considered it. Dick always seemed so confident, and he was always so devoted and loving to their father. To their entire family. Damian couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted his place at their father’s side. “Richard never told me that.”

“He wouldn’t.” Timothy glanced at him, clearly saw the fight starting, and then quelled it with his explanation. “Its not because he doesn’t trust you. Its because he doesn’t want to upset you. He’s more focused on helping you develop your relationships with him and with Bruce, and the rest of us, than he is with making sure you don’t bring up any of his old hurts or fears.”

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Damian had no doubt that Timothy was right. He just couldn't understand _why_ Dick would have any doubts about his relationship with his father. As much as he didn’t like admitting that he couldn't understand something, he knew this was one of those instances where he had to ask. This was too important to wait until he could figure it out on his own. He wouldn’t risk harming his favorite brother again in the meantime. 

Fortunately, he knew now that he could ask Timothy these kinds of questions with minimal agitation. “Why would Richard have ever feared his place at my father’s side? He’s proven himself invaluable. He’s proven how devoted he is. Why would he even consider that Father wouldn't want him?”

Timothy took a brief moment before he responded. “Because he’s always felt -not without reason- that he was ultimately Bruce making the best of a bad situation. He told me he knew that if Bruce had to choose between having him and having his parents back, he would choose his parents. The problem is, if given the same choice, Dick would choose Bruce. Every time. No question.”

Timothy glanced at Damian. “He’s never told Bruce that because he’s afraid of how he’d react. So you might want to do him a favor and keep it to yourself. You’re the only person I’ve ever told, and only because I think he’d want you to understand.”

Trust from Timothy was still new. Damian wasn’t sure how to respond to it. He certainly wasn’t going to betray that trust. Even if he wanted to hurt Timothy, he’d never give away one of Dick’s secrets in the process. He wondered if Timothy had known that when he told him. He wondered exactly how well the other boy could read him now. 

He decided to focus on Dick instead of wondering about Timothy. Dick was his priority. 

Dick always came across as fearless. So much so that Damian never really considered what his favorite brother might be afraid of, besides losing his family to a villain. He never thought that Dick was in a position to fear that he might lose his family another way. It was hard to imagine that someone like Dick could ever think he measured short to anyone, even the idealized memory of their father’s parents. 

“He loves Bruce _so much_. Always has. None of us will ever be as devoted to him as Dick is.” Timothy didn’t sound like he was trying to take jab at Damian. He was just pointing out a fact. He sounded almost awed as he spoke of their eldest brother. 

“That devotion is real, always has been, but Dick also tried really hard to show Bruce how much he meant to him. Especially after he became Nightwing. He was afraid that Bruce wouldn’t have any need for him, once he wasn’t his ward and wasn’t his partner. He was afraid Bruce wouldn't see him as his son once he wasn’t a child anymore. That he thought of him as a successor, or a soldier, or a sidekick, or a tool that was just too big for his utility belt. Or worse, that he didn’t think of him at all.”

Damian would never admit it. Not to Timothy or his father or even likely to Dick, but he understood that fear. He’d felt it too, to a smaller degree, when he first came to stay with his father and encountered his gaggle of adopted offspring, particularly Timothy. That was one of the reasons why he had been so determined to establish that he was his father’s only true son and heir at the start. Part of it was just getting the respect and esteem he deserved, but another part of it was making sure his father couldn’t dismiss the fact that he was more important than the others were. 

Timothy gave him a moment to absorb his last statements before he continued explaining their eldest brother’s concerns. “Dick thought he had to prove his worth beyond Robin. He thought he had to do something in order to remain relevant to Bruce. He was afraid Bruce would just move on, that he’d never give Dick a second thought. Obviously, you and I know he was wrong. Deep down, he did too, but sometimes it was hard to remember that with the way Bruce can be.” 

Timothy glanced at Damian again. There was a gentleness to his next statement, but not enough to seem condescending or coddling. It was as if Timothy were advertising that he wasn’t trying to be cruel. “But you can see why having you point out that he isn’t Bruce’s _real_ son could hurt, even now that he knows Bruce loves him.” 

Damian could. He _did_. For once, he had no problem admitting to himself that he was feeling bad about his actions. He also didn’t know what to do about it. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He wasn’t sure why it was so important to establish that, but it was. 

This time, Timothy responded without pausing for thought. “I know that. So does Dick.”

Damian nodded as well. He was glad to hear that. Again, for whatever reason, he didn’t doubt that Timothy was telling the truth. He had no doubt that the other boy was right. 

He was also determined not to hurt Dick again. He would take Timothy’s advice about how he phrased his comments to the press. He would make sure Dick knew he saw him as worthy of his and his father’s attention and affection, no matter if he wasn’t related to them by blood. 

He glanced at Timothy, who had returned his attention to the road. Apparently, he was done speaking unless Damian decided to continue the discussion or bring up another subject. 

Damian did have another subject to bring up. If he was going to feel poorly about all this, after Timothy had brought it up, then the least the other boy could do was help Damian figure out how to address it. 

“Drake, I’m experiencing remorse. I hate that. Should I speak to Richard about the comments? I’m not very good at apologies.”

Timothy released a sudden breath through his nose, as though trying to hide it. Damian had the suspicion that the other boy had just silently laughed at him. Before he could demand an explanation, Timothy answered his question. 

“You don’t have to actually apologize, just don’t call yourself Bruce’s ‘only real son’ anymore. And find ways to show Dick you feel like he’s really your brother. That’s all he wants, in the end; to feel secure in his family. We don’t have to be perfect. He just wants to know we love him as much as he loves us.”

Damian _did_ feel like Dick was really his brother. He thought about him often and yet never plotted ways to dispense of him. He missed him when he was away and looked forward to seeing him when he came for their fortnightly luncheon. He grew concerned when he learned he was in danger and angry when he learned he’d been hurt. He’d never state it so plainly, never expose such a clear target to his enemies, but he loved Dick.

He just wasn’t the best at expressing such sentiments. 

Fortunately, Timothy offered some suggestions without any prompting. “So call to talk to him about everything or nothing. Text him photos of your pets or comments on your interests even if its stupid, everyday stuff. Play games with him online when he’s in Blüdhaven. Tease him -gently- and don’t get too bugged when he teases you back. Be there when he needs you and don’t be afraid to call on him whenever you need him.”

Damian could do that. He actually enjoyed doing each of those things with Dick. Apparently, being a good brother wasn’t going to be as hard as Damian imagined. 

At least where Dick was concerned. He wasn’t sure about the others. Cassandra, he might be able to do those things with. She wasn’t nearly as loquacious as Dick and tended to keep things out in the open, so Damian assumed he wouldn’t need to put in as much work with her for her to feel accepted. He could call or text her a little more often and make sure she knew he was happy to help her anytime she needed it, not that she often did or hesitated to ask when such a need arose. 

Jason and Timothy, not so much. Well, he _was_ getting better at asking them for assistance at times. He figured that counted as enough improvement in their relationships for the time being.

Perhaps for the first time though, he was curious about their feelings. If _Dick_ -who was as perfect as one of such unimpressive linage could be- could feel such concerns over his value, then how could the others not feel the same? 

“What about the rest of you? Are you all…” Damian gestured vaguely as he searched for the right term. “_Frightened_ by this notion that you don’t hold enough meaning to my father?”

Timothy considered the question briefly, and then answered, calmly but with no small amount of thought. “Cass has never needed words, so she and Bruce communicate better than the rest of us. She wasn’t sure about the whole family thing at first -it didn’t fit with her upbringing- but once she came around, that was it. Her relationship with her biological parents -especially Cain- meant that the whole concept of parents was kind of loaded for her, which is why she didn’t start calling him ‘Dad’ until after Dick and Jay. But she’s pretty sure of where she stands with him.

“Jason’s getting there.” There was something different in Timothy’s voice when he spoke of his favorite brother. Damian thought it might have been pride. “Its hard, since him and Bruce have such similar personalities but different ideals. It makes them clash a lot, which can make it easy to lose sight of the things that are most important. He’s solid with himself now, so I think that makes it easier.

“The biggest hurdle for them is the Joker. After what he did to Jason-” Timothy’s eyes hardened at the reminder of what their big brother had suffered. “-And the way Bruce handled it, that’s always going to be a painful subject between them. They’re finally at a place where they can talk about it a little, so that’s a good first step. Of course, having the Joker out of commission helps too.”

The last part wasn’t said with any pride or bragging, as Damian would have stated it if he’d been the one to handle the Joker. Timothy might as well have had nothing to do with it for how he responded. There might have been some remorse, it was hard for Damian to say. Timothy appeared to be strictly focusing on Jason and their father. 

Timothy paused again. His expression was back to being entirely, carefully neutral. “Its a little different for me…but we’re okay. I think. At least, we’re getting there.”

That confused Damian a little. He wasn’t sure why Timothy would be so different from any of his father’s other adopted children. He was an emancipated minor, so that was different. However, that shouldn't have any standing on his status as Bruce’s child, as far as Damian could see. The others were adults, and that hadn’t changed much between them and their adopted parent.

His father hadn’t adopted Timothy until he was older than Dick had been when his father took him in. But he’d practically been living at the Manor before that. Plus, Jason had been older as well. Casandra had been an adult when his father adopted her. That meant the boy’s age upon adoption shouldn’t have mattered either. As far as Damian could tell anyway. 

They’d had something of a falling out after Timothy had taken the Joker out of commission. They hadn’t spoken for weeks. During that time, Damian’s father had insisted on keeping Robin close to Batman and began his habit of sending Damian home early to rest. Damian had initially thought that had something to do with almost losing another adopted child, but the habits had remained even after the status quo appeared to balance out again. Now, Damian thought it was partially because his father wanted to bond with him, partially to ensure he kept him safer than he had his previous Robins, partially to appease Alfred, and partially because he missed Timothy. 

Because even though they’d returned to speaking terms and could work together as vigilantes, captains of industry, or adopted father and son, there was something different about their relationship. Damian hadn’t seen them interact very much before his father ‘died’. That meant he hadn’t seen them as Batman and Robin the way the others had. He hadn’t witnessed them living together as parent and child. He couldn’t say what had changed, but by his father’s reaction, he could tell something had. Something that his father didn’t like.

Damian just didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know when it changed or if it was simply something his father had always wanted different. He just knew there was a tension with Timothy that wasn’t present when his father was interacting with the others.

Timothy had been good about answering Damian's questions lately. He decided one more couldn't hurt. His tone was a little more challenging that he’d aimed for, but not too curious or hostile. It was really the best he could hope for. “Why would it be any different for you?”

“I’m not sure if this is a topic we should be broaching yet.” Timothy glanced at Damian once again before returning his eyes to the road. “We’ve been getting along pretty well lately. Why risk ruining a good run?”

Damian frowned in irritation. He could only think of one conclusion that seemed likely from that comment. “Am I to take that to mean you never doubted your place as my father’s son?”

Timothy sighed. His voice remained deceptively even. “Actually, its the opposite. I don’t believe he’s ever really considered me his son, not like he does with you guys.” 

Damian’s frown deepened but grew more confused than hostile. He wasn’t sure if that was some sort of manipulation to keep the peace or if it was the truth. It didn’t make much sense for Timothy to feel that way. He truly wasn’t Bruce’s child, but Damian had come to accept that the fact didn’t hold as much weight for his father and adopted siblings as it did for him. 

Or he’d thought it hadn’t, until he’d learned how Dick felt. 

As he’d considered before, if Dick could have his doubts, then he supposed it made sense for Timothy to have them. Still, the boy had been given a much longer leash when he was Robin. That couldn’t be taken lightly. But it could have been a sign of trust _or_ a sign of him holding less value than his predecessors.

“What do you mean?” His tone had grown more demanding, but Damian thought that was alright. He was well within his rights to ask after his own father, after all. 

“Exactly what I said.” Timothy shook his head slightly. “You now, I’ve never understood why you felt so threatened by me in that regard-”

“I never felt _threatened by **you**_!” Damian couldn’t let that slide. Even if it was marginally close to the truth, Timothy could never know that. Damian wouldn’t allow it. “I was understandably _pissed off_ that you refused to step down to give me the position entitled to me by _my birthright_. That you refused to acknowledge you were no longer needed, once my father’s _real son_ had arrived.

“It wasn’t about _you_. It was about _me_. And about _**my** father_.” Damian frowned and glared out the window. What he said was true, but he hadn’t intended to get that hostile with Timothy. 

He certainly hadn’t intended to refer to himself as his father’s ‘real son’. Not after learning the phrase hurt Dick. He would have to be more careful in the future. He’d have to work on keeping to the ‘true heir’ line. It amounted to about the same thing, but if one upset his favorite brother and the other didn’t, then at least he didn’t have to watch his tongue quite as closely. 

Timothy released a small sigh. His voice was a little tighter than before, but still infuriatingly even. “Even still, all you had to do was ask about our history to see you had nothing to worry about.” He glanced at Damian. “And I’m not going to say anything to him, but you really shouldn’t use the ‘real son’ bit at all if you don’t want to slip when it might get back to Dick.”

Damian was both chagrined at the reminder that he had and could hurt Dick, and angry that Timothy corrected him. He was angry that the other boy was maintaining his composure that well while his own had slipped entirely. Growing more angry was only going to lead to him saying and doing things that would land himself in trouble with his father, as well as Dick, Jason, and Alfred. 

He took a few deep, slow breaths, the way Dick had taught him. He counted down and reminded himself of the hurt he would cause people he didn’t intend to, the way Jason had told him to. He reminded himself that lashing out would be a sign of weakness, whereas controlling himself was a sign a strength, as Cassandra had told him. He reminded himself that actions were up to interpretation, but words could clarify his meaning, the way Timothy had told him. 

Eventually, he was able to turn his mind back to the conversation they’d been having. He was able to focus on the part of Timothy’s response that related to his question about the other boy’s relationship with his father. Something about his answer didn’t quite fit. 

As far as Damian knew, their ‘history’ was that Timothy had been (arguably) the best Robin to serve Batman until he came along to claim his rightful place at his father’s side. “And what about your history with my father should have reassured me?” He offered a warning look. “Assuming I needed it. Why would my father keep you around if not for a sentimental attachment?” 

As far as he was concerned, that was a just question and he wouldn’t apologize for asking it. 

Even if he had to admit, to himself at least, that Timothy did have a very impressive skill set when it came to gathering and keeping information. He was better with computers and other such technologies than any other member of the family. Damian supposed his father might have kept Timothy around because he was useful rather than out of sentiment. Still, that was his own thinking. He wanted to hear Timothy’s reasoning.

Timothy paused briefly again. He appeared to take a slow breath and Damian wondered if he was calming himself as he had just done or if the other boy was simply breathing. 

Timothy’s eyes never left the road as he answered. “Because he needed me. He needed a partner, and I was always his partner above anything else. 

“At first, I had to be. I was someone else’s kid and he’d just lost a son.” Timothy looked slightly sad as he referenced his deceased parents and his favorite brother’s former demise. “I wasn’t looking for another parent and he didn’t want another child. It worked. Batman needs Robin, and he had one.”

His expression became unreadable again. His eyes still held a hint of sadness, but not enough that Damian could be sure he would have detected it if he hadn’t already known it was there. “But I wasn’t like the other Robins. He didn’t handle most of my training himself. He didn’t keep me close like he did with Dick or Jason. He didn’t make sure I was looked after like he does with you. 

“I wasn’t his responsibility. I wasn’t _his_. Period.”

That all made sense. Except that Damian knew his father had taken Timothy in so often over the years he was Robin that he might as well have lived at the Manor the whole time, even when he didn’t actually reside there. “He took you in every time you needed somewhere to go.” 

Personally, Damian would have just sent the boy back to the boarding schools his parents thought he’d been attending all along. He realized why that wouldn't work once he listened to Timothy’s response.

“What else could he do? First I was training to be Robin, and once I was Robin, he didn’t want to give up his partner. It would’ve been a liability to let me go into the system or have Robin disappear right when I got sent away somewhere. Even if whoever I ended up with didn’t notice me disappearing every night, they might notice injuries. If _they_ didn’t, someone else might. It could create a scandal, draw attention to me…and to him, to his cause.”

Damian had to admit that Timothy made some pretty good points. Whether him being sent away meant he stopped being Robin or continued under their noses, it would still pose a threat. Even if they found a way around the obvious ones, Timothy had been injured as Robin. Flesh had been torn and bones had been broken. The resulting scars would demand that certain questions be asked, if anyone were to see them. He’d already been known to spend time at Wayne Manor, so it might draw too many gazes their way. 

Bringing him in at those times had been the simplest solution. It could have been an act of convenience rather than one of affection. However, there was a point when Damian’s father did something that had not been simple or convenient for him in the least. It wasn’t so easily waved aside.

“He gave you Pennyworth, when your father sent you to that ridiculous boarding school. Father wouldn’t part with him for someone he didn’t care for.” Every member of the family knew what Pennyworth meant to Damian’s father. He wouldn’t send the man to someone unless they were valued. 

“He would for a _cause_ he cared for. I’ll admit, having Alfred there made that place bearable for me, but when Bruce spoke to me about it, his concern was how my being sent away would affect Robin. He sent Alfred to minimize that impact and give me more room to come and go without drawing attention. It was either utilize Alfred, risk someone noticing me disappearing, or lose Robin…again, right when I was sent away.” Timothy glanced at Damian. “You can see why he made the choice he did.”

Damian certainly could. Still, they hadn’t gotten around to the part where Damian’s father actually adopted him. Fortunately, Timothy recognized that and kept explaining. 

“When my- When I was on my own, I moved to Blüdhaven, then into the apartment above the stables. Eventually, Bruce decided he needed to arrange for me the same type of security he’d made sure Dick had. I needed to be able to continue on as Robin and keep our secret if Bruce was gone. The laws had changed; he couldn’t take me on as his ward, so he adopted me. That meant moving me into the Manor and presenting me as his son. He made it very clear that the adoption was for security.” 

A look passed Timothy’s face for a brief moment. Something dark, but not the type of darkness Damian was familiar with. He recalled Cassandra once telling him that where she or Damian would turn to anger, Timothy turned to sorrow. He supposed that was what she meant. Only he’d never seen sorrow like that before. It was replaced by the neutral expression he usually wore too quickly for Damian to make sense of it.

Then, Timothy surprised Damian by explaining his reaction. “I was...sensitive at the time. I’m actually kind of embarrassed by how I reacted. It clearly made him uncomfortable. But I calmed down quickly enough. We got along well, we worked together well.

“Batman had a Robin.” Timothy gave the slightest of nods, as if acknowledging something. “It was good while it lasted.”

As much as the words were chosen to sound as though Timothy was thinking of a past he never dwelt on anymore; that the memories were fond enough, but not something they needed to explore, Damian got the feeling there was more to it. He wasn’t sure if Timothy was trying to keep the peace or pacify him. It sounded like the other boy believed what he was saying, but Damian couldn’t read him well enough to be sure. His eyes might have been sad, or they might have just been tired.

There was one fact, which had actually been a pretty big point of conflict between them for a while, that Timothy hadn’t brought up in that explanation. Damian decided to broach the subject himself. He wanted answers. “He let you remain in charge of Wayne Enterprises. I find it difficult to believe he would hand my grandfather’s company over to just anyone.”

“He wouldn’t.” Timothy agreed, but it didn't sound as though he were conceding to any point. “Not just anyone can run it the way Bruce would like; the way Thomas Wayne would have liked _and_ make sure no one notices anything telling that might threaten the family’s _other_ work. I have the mind for it, the resourcefulness, and the right sense of responsibility. I’d already proven myself loyal.” 

That wasn’t bragging, that was Timothy just explaining his adopted father’s choice.

“But remember, he _didn’t_ hand it over to me. I _took it_. We needed a failsafe because of what Ra’s was trying to do. Taking the company was the only thing I could think of to protect it until we got Bruce back. He could have made it all go away after he returned, but he decided to leave it rather than draw attention, _and_ so he’d have more time for you and Batman. Doing so while I was still a minor meant sacrificing any claim he had on me as a parent. 

“He wouldn't have been willing to do that with Dick or Jason.” He glanced at Damian again briefly. “He would never do that with you.”

There was no bitterness or self-pity in Timothy’s tone or expression. He’d remained mostly neutral through the entire answer. There was a little tightness to his voice, but no complaint or threat. Only cool, calm facts. And that strange dark sorrow.

As much as Damian enjoyed proving Timothy wrong, he had to say the other boy’s logic worked. 

Something about it still _felt_ wrong. Damian had heard his father include Timothy when speaking of his children. He’d heard him refer to Timothy as his son when speaking to someone at Wayne Enterprises. Of course, he considered that his father really couldn’t say anything else in such a situation, not after keeping the boy for so long and legally adopting him. Everything Timothy said, every explanation offered, stood to reason. 

That meant either Damian had miscalculated when he considered his father’s relationship to Timothy, and the other boy had never been the threat Damian imagined him to be, or something was wrong with Timothy’s perception of the relationship in question. 

Damian didn’t know which it was. 

A police offer pulled them over to ensure that Timothy was old enough to be driving at night with another minor in the car. That usually happened at least once when Timothy drove from Gotham to Metropolis. Damian always had to fight not to laugh when it happened. He fared better that time, since his mind was distracted. He still couldn’t help but smirk as the other boy explained, yet again, that he was emancipated and showed his ID and license. 

Timothy sighed after they were allowed to continue driving. “Once you’re old enough to drive, you’re taking a turn on the way home from the Kents’.”

The smirk returned to Damian’s face despite the fact that he truly was trying to play nice. “Naturally. I’ll be stopped less than you are.”

Timothy rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That’s the idea.” 

Damian had to fight not laugh again.

Timothy had work to do at Wayne Enterprises in addition to whatever he had going on as Red Robin, so he simply dropped Damian off with the comment to give his regards to Pennyworth and Damian’s father. His eyes looked tired, or perhaps irritated. Maybe even sad. They held more moisture than normal, which he kept blinking back in a manner that would have escaped the notice of most people. He drove off once he saw Damian enter the Manor without issue. 

Damian wasn’t sure what to make of it all. 

All in all, it had been a very tame drive home and Damian counted their discussion as a success in the sense that he hadn’t threatened the other boy once. He truly was trying to please his father in regards to his temper and how he managed displeasure with others, but it was more difficult than he’d expected at times. He thought Timothy’s comments on his relationship with his father was worth considering further, however that wasn’t his first priority.

Damian’s priority to was to start trying to make up to Dick for his unintentionally hurtful words.

Once he was home, he sent his favorite brother a text, telling him he’d spent the day with Jon at the Kents’ Metropolis farm. He requested that his brother call him at his earliest convenience so they could talk about it. 

The reply was a string of emoji expressing his brother’s happiness at hearing from him and assuring him that he would be calling in about an hour. 

True to his word, as always, Dick called him back about an hour later. 

“Hey, Little D! I’m glad you texted me. Did you have fun with Jon? Did Tim or Jason bring you? Are there any new animals at the Kent Farm?” He sounded happy, relaxed, and genuinely interested in the answers to his questions. 

It seemed Damian had been right to believe Timothy knew what he was talking about. Clearly, Dick was pleased just to hear from his favorite brother. Damian was glad for that. 

He hadn’t done anything especially exciting with his friend that day, nothing he would normally call his brother to discuss. However, Timothy had suggested that calling Dick to talk about ‘everything or nothing’ would express a feeling of kinship. So he told Dick about his day. He talked about his training, his schoolwork, his pets, and his time visiting Jon. 

He told him about the cows he tried to liberate from the Kents’ neighbor and the alleged misunderstanding that had led to the event. He told him about how Timothy and Conner had actually stepped between him and Jon and said neighbor, preventing the argument from escalating until Clark arrived and told all the kids to go into the house while he handled it. He told him how the neighbor ended up inviting Clark to bring him and Jon over sometime to see how he used the milking machines that they’d identified as instruments of torture and how he wasn’t still convinced they weren’t just that.

Dick listened to everything, making short comments and sounds of encouragement as he did so. Until that point, when he apparently had some advice to share on the issue. “Sounds like a busy day so far. You should take the neighbor up on the offer, if you still aren’t sure. Maybe seeing them in action will help you decide. 

“Or you could ask Tim about them.” Dick released a quiet laugh. Damian could tell he was smiling when he continued. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he looked them up after we got Bat-Cow.”

That was true. Damian would text Timothy later, after he’d given Dick some more attention. In the meantime, the mention of Timothy gave Damian an idea of how to address the article that started this whole discussion without having to directly apologize.

“I”ll do that. Thank you, Richard. I should have mentioned it to Drake on the way home -you’re right that he’s always a respectable source of information -but I was distracted. I was accosted by a reporter from the Gotham Inquisitor the other day and she printed a rather unfavorable article. The whole thing was annoying, but Drake said I handled it well. He said that making statements that I’m the true heir are good for allowing such inferior journalist to feel they have a scandal to discuss without giving anything of interest to proper news outlets.”

Damian aimed for a casual tone, hoping that if he made it sound like it was just an aside, Dick might realize how little he’d considered his words. He might understand that Damian hadn’t meant them in a way that would hurt his eldest brother. “So I’m going to continue making such statements, although I believe I’ll try not to state it as my being father’s only ‘real’ child, as Todd has expressed some issue with the phrasing. You won’t take the comments personally, of course.”

“Of course.” Dick agreed. “I think that’s really smart of you guys to work out. I’m glad you aren’t going to use the ‘real son’ line, not if its going to hurt anyone.” His tone was encouraging, proud, and pleased. However, there was a slight weight to it when he remarked on the ‘real son’ line. 

It was enough to confirm that Timothy had been absolutely correct in his remark about Dick. The comment had hurt him. Damian felt remorseful again. He asked his brother if he was free to play some Monk-E-Monsters online. It was an easy game -for them anyway- so it wouldn’t be too much if his brother was tired after his workday. 

They played until dinnertime.

Damian frowned when Pennyworth asked if he wanted anything special for dessert after he called him down to dinner. “Why would I?” He looked the man over curiously, and with a hint of suspicion. “And why would you want to accommodate me if I did?” 

His tone turned demanding as a concern entered his mind. “Has something happened to my father? Tell me now!”

“Your father is quite alright. He is attending a charity gala in a very secure neighborhood. Mister Kent and Miss Lane-Kent are also in antecedence, as are Mr and Mrs Fox. Nothing of note has occurred in the last twenty-four hours that might concern your family.” Pennyworth explained in that way of his, where Damian couldn’t tell if he was amused or being catty. His siblings assured him that no one could tell. 

“You’ve seemed a little distracted since your return from the Kent house, Master Damian.” Pennyworth explained simply but kindly. “I only thought a special treat might cheer you up.” 

Damian was relieved his family was alright. Still, he was far from placated, if that had been the man’s intention. “I am not a baby, Pennyworth. I am not distracted by sweets.”

“I did not imply that you were, Master Damian.” Pennyworth did not sound perturbed or remorseful. His voice was calm and warm. “Everyone could do will a little spoiling, now and again, even tough vigilantes. Why do you think I bake the cookies your father favors so often? Everyone could sometimes use the reminder that they’re special to someone and cared for by someone.”

Damian was about to roll his eyes, but the man’s comments gave him an idea. First, he had to be sure he was understanding the aforementioned gesture correctly. These sort of things had tripped him up in the past. “And does giving one sweets as such usually make them feel more valued?”

“It does.” Pennyworth nodded, looking pleased but slightly surprised that Damian was asking. “You must remember, it isn’t the sweets that are important; they are simply a nice treat to spoil a loved one with. The important part is the _gesture_. In taking a little time and effort out of your day, you reaffirm that the person is valued. You acknowledge that you have thought of them and wanted to do something nice for them, however small or simple.”

That made sense. Damian had found most people to be irritatingly sentimental, including Dick. A small gesture like that would also fit into Timothy’s suggestions of how Damian could acknowledge Dick as worthy of being his brother. 

Before he could feel too glad about finding another way of expressing Dick’s value, Damian realized he’d already struck a small road bump. He didn’t know what sorts of treats Dick would like. Again, he figured Pennyworth would useful in figuring that out. He aimed for sounding simply curious, but wasn’t sure how well he managed it. Pennyworth was infuriatingly skilled at reading people. “And did you ever use sweets to express such value to Richard?”

Pennyworth blinked, perhaps seeing the reason for Damian’s sudden interest in the subject. He was tactful enough to simply answer the question though, something Damian always liked about the man. “Yes, of course. I have done so with every child to reside in this household since I came to work for your family.”

He smiled gently. Perhaps remembering a younger Dick or perhaps endeared by the fact that Damian was asking after his big brother. Regardless of the cause of his smile, Pennyworth gave Damian exactly the information he was looking for. “Master Dick favors portable pastries. He is especially fond of Swiss rolls, hand pies, and lamington style snack cakes.” 

“Thank you, Pennyworth. You’ve been most helpful.” Damian eyed the man, then pitched his voice so it didn’t sound hopeful. He wasn’t sure if the dessert offer was still on the table but it was worth a shot. “I don’t suppose we have any German apple cake about?”

Pennyworth merely smiled. “I believe we do, Master Damian. Excuse me while I check on that.” He placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder briefly before heading toward the kitchen.

Soon enough, the scent of German apple cake warming in the oven reached the dining room. Damian took a brief moment to realize that -given the discussion they’d just had- this was Pennyworth’s way of telling him he was valued. That the (undoubtedly handmade) cake was a gesture of caring. It made him happier than he would have expected it to. 

But he still had work to do, so he dismissed the sentiment and got to it.

He took out his phone and arranged for Dick’s favorite bakery in Gotham to deliver him two dozen single serve pastries in Blüdhaven. The order included plenty of Swiss cakes, hand pies, and lamington. He also included one of their signature decorated cookies. One that read ‘_World’s Best Brother_. It seemed like the sort of thing that would make Dick happy.

The next day, shortly after receiving the delivery notification of his gift, he received a text from Dick. It was of the cookie, laid on a napkin with Dick’s hands over it, encircling it in a heart. The caption read, ‘_Thanks Little D, but I think this one was meant for you_’ There were also several emoji expressing his brother’s happiness and gratitude and suggesting that Damian was adorable and loved. 

He rolled his eyes but was pleased that he’d made his favorite brother happy after unintentionally hurting him. 

As Damian went about his day over the next week, he sent Dick the occasional text; photos of his pets and comments on his day. Dick replied with ‘_Congratulations_’ when Damian texted that he’d gotten a ninety percent score on his history test. He sent an applause emoji when Damian sent him a video Pennyworth had taken of him finally getting Titus through his entire training course without a leash. He sent a string of emoji expressing pride and excitement when Damian reported that he’d successfully executed a gymnastics move Dick had showed him some time ago that he’d since been practicing but struggling with. 

His father had taken notice of the additional texting. At first he was concerned that Damian was up to something. Later, he expressed concern that something was wrong with one of Damian’s friends or other siblings. 

“I am only texting Richard, Father.” Damian was actually doing so as he spoke. “Drake assured me that doing such would reinforce the belief that Richard is worthy of being called my brother. And Pennyworth says that making sure people are aware you’ve thought of them reinforces the notion that they are of value to you.”

His father didn’t appear to know exactly what to make of this development, but he asked no further questions and no longer showed any sign of suspicion when Damian took a photo to send Dick or sent him a text at seeming random moments. In fact, he began to encourage the increased communication between his youngest and eldest children.

Toward the end of the week, Dick sent Damian a photo of himself in his police uniform, kneeling beside an alpaca that Blüdhaven PD had to remove from an apartment building. Damian volunteered to take the alpaca if she was going to be sent to slaughter or a substandard dwelling. Dick assured him that he wouldn’t allow the animal to be killed or neglected. He also told him that someone else was first in line to adopt her if she wasn’t going to be returned to her owner, but that he’d make sure the proper parties knew that there was another option available.

Damian then sent Timothy a text asking about alpacas just in case. He’d already received some good information about the milking machines and their proper use when he’d texted Timothy a question about them after talking to Dick. He assumed the other boy would likewise have or find good information on alpacas. 

Contacting Timothy made Damian think of their conversation in the car again. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Timothy’s account of his history with Damian’s father. 

During dinner later, when it was just him and Pennyworth again, he decided to try to get some answers. 

“Pennyworth, you spoke the other day about offering sweets to make each of my father’s adopted orphans feel special or cared for. Do you still do this?”

The man looked slightly disapproving of the question, or as it seemed, the way it was phrased. He made sure to comment on it before answering. “Calling them ‘orphans’ as such is rude, Master Damian, and might I add, quite beneath you. Adopted or not, they are your father’s children. They are your siblings and you should feel fortunate to have them.”

The man paused for a moment to let his words take hold or to make sure Damian wasn’t going to argue. Finally, seeing no argument was coming, he gave a short nod and continued answering the question. “As for your query; yes. I still send the occasional care package or tin of cookies to ensure they remember they are thought of and cared for. 

“Particularly, Master Dick and Miss Cassandra. I’ve also signed them up for some local produce deliveries. I do not want them to feel that living outside of Gotham affects their status as family in the slightest.” He looked at Damian pointedly. “Because it doesn’t.”

Damian was annoyed at the suggestion that he might disregard Dick or Cassandra because they were physically distant from him. Still, he tried to stay focused, even if his voice soured a little. “What of Todd and Drake?”

Pennyworth arched a brow in warning but didn’t yet comment on his tone. “I send Master Jason and Master Tim the occasional treat as well. I sent them more often after they became roommates. I appreciated that they both required some time and space to heal after the Joker’s most recent acts of defilement, but I did not want them to believe themselves to be alone or forgotten during that time. I have recently met with Master Jason for lunch a few times as well. Unfortunately, Master Tim is often too busy to join us.”

Grouping them together made sense, as they now lived and worked together, but also made Damian’s task more difficult. He needed to know if Timothy alone had warranted the same care and thoughtfulness as the others. “When was the last time you sent Drake one of these ‘care packages’ before that?”

Pennyworth paused to think for a brief moment. “You know, I don’t recall the precise time before that. I believe it was a few months prior. I do have a great number of duties to attend to, you know.”

Damian wasn’t sure if he was to take that to mean that Pennyworth was too busy to remember the last time he’d sent such a package to Timothy alone, if it meant he’d been too busy to send such a package for some time, or if it meant he considered acknowledging Timothy as one of his duties. Perhaps sending the other boy a tin of cookies was the same as polishing the family silver to him. 

He knew Pennyworth would never outright admit to it if that were the case, so he didn’t press further. Besides, he wanted to find out how his father felt about Timothy, not Pennyworth. He considered another question that might be more helpful in determining that. “What of my father? Does he make such gestures toward his ad-” He corrected himself at the look the old man directed toward him. “Toward the others?”

Pennyworth offered a short nod of appreciation at the correction. “Your father rarely expresses sentiment in the usual ways. He keeps a close watch on his children’s movements and activities. He steps in when he believes they require assistance. Master Dick discovered this quickly after he took on the Nightwing persona. He recognized it as a caring gesture and continues to see your father’s efforts at expressing care for what they are.”

After a brief pause, he added to that comment, looking mildly worried. “I am not certain the others do. I believe they -rather understandably- think such efforts are part of your father’s need to be in control. Although Miss Cassandra, at least, has taken to asking him after his motives directly. While that has caused some minor awkwardness, it has certainly improved her understanding of him. It has improved their communication and their relationship as a whole, in fact.” 

Damian was pleased to hear Cassandra was getting along well with his father. He was also pleased to hear that Dick recognized when his father was showing care in his own way. However, neither of those points answered his question. 

He decided he was going to have to go straight to the source. Confronting his father could go either way, so he decided to start with his question about Dick. That way the question he deemed most important would be answered if the discussion went poorly enough that either Damian decided it wasn’t worth questioning his father any further or if his father refused to discuss the subject afterwards.

He chose his timing carefully. If his father was too busy with something important, he wouldn't appreciate the distraction and might seek to end the questioning rather than focus on an explanation. If he wasn’t busy enough, he would worry Damian meant to harm one of his adopted siblings and turn the discussion around to a subject he deemed safer. 

Damian waited until his father had closed the case he was currently working on and was repairing some damage to his Batsuit. That was enough of a distraction that his father was less likely to overthink his questions, but not enough of one for him to fail to adequately answer them. 

He remembered what Timothy previously had told him about needing to make sure his father knew when it was something important. He remembered what his father had told him about telling him when he needed his time. “Father, I have a question for you. Its of the utmost importance that you answer truthfully. Are you willing to hear it now?”

His father immediately set aside the cowl he’d been rewiring and looked him over carefully as though making sure he wasn’t injured in some way or overtly distressed. He appeared satisfied that the issue wasn’t too dire, but still concerned. “What’s going on?”

“You may continue working as you answer, if you wish.” His father did, and Damian wasn’t one to waste time with niceties, so he got on with it. “Do you love Richard?”

His father looked slightly startled and irritated by the question. He immediately stopped working and turned to his youngest child. “Of course I love him. Why would you ask that?”

He studied his father. The man excelled at masking his emotions and was a fine actor. He had to be, to keep their secrets safe. Damian couldn’t detect any sign of dishonesty. Catching him off guard had been the way to go. Still, he needed to be sure the love his father was referencing was the love he was asking about, the love Dick wanted and deserved. 

There was an easy enough way to determine that, since Damian truly was his child. “Do you love him the same as you love me?”

His father placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. His tone was one of forced patience. “Damian, I know this might be hard for you to understand right now, but I love each of you kids equally. Dick is my first child. He’ll always hold a particular place in my heart, but the same is true of you. You-”

“So that means yes?” Damian didn’t have time for platitudes. He knew his own value and didn’t require any reassurances that he was wanted any longer. He needed to find the truth so he could assure Dick of _his_ value as well. 

His father sighed quietly. Had Damian not been standing within arms reach of him, he wouldn’t have caught the quiet sign of growing agitation. Still, his father’s tone was level as he explained. 

“There is no _same_, Damian, just equality. I love each of you differently because you’re all different people. You each posses different qualities that I love. You each have different strengths and weaknesses that I’m proud of you for or worry over you because of. You each express and accept love in different ways. So I love each of you _differently_, but _equally_.”

That was promising, but the words were chosen a little too carefully and his father kept bunching each of his children together. Damian wasn’t bothered with himself or his other adopted siblings yet. This was about Dick. He needed clarification. “Then you love Richard as a son?”

“Of course I do.” His father’s tone began to grow irritated again as he clarified. “He _is_ my son.”

That was better. It was a good place to start. Damian wanted to address the concern that Timothy had told him about. He wanted to be able to tell Dick that his basis for thinking he was valued less than any other was inaccurate. First, he needed to ensure that it truly was. “And you wouldn’t give him up for anything?”

His father was starting to look more irritated and confused by the line of questioning. “Never. He’s _my son_.”

Damian decided he needed to increase his specificity before his father ran out of patience. “Then answer this hypothetical. If you were able to return to the night my grandparents were killed and prevent their deaths, but in doing so would forever lose the opportunity to adopt Richard, would you do it? Would you choose to have your parents instead of Richard?”

His father’s brow drew in and his mouth tightened. His voice was firm, demanding compliance, even as he explained his reasons before he made his demand. “Damian, that’s a terrible thing to ask. You can’t expect someone to choose between their loved ones. Its cruel and unfair. Don’t ever ask your brothers or sister anything like that.”

He was getting better at the whole explaining thing lately and Damian knew he mostly had Jason to thank for it. Since his brother started challenging their father to earn the compliance he expected and prove the devotion he professed to have, the man truly had started working on how he expressed himself. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t clearly agitated by his son’s question. It just meant he explained _why_ when telling him ‘no’ these days or demanding that he alter some part of his behavior. 

Damian crossed his arms and stared up at his father. He wasn’t letting him get out of this one by changing the topic to Damian’s behavior. It was too important. “Life is cruel and unfair, and I’m not asking any of _them_, I’m asking _you_. Terrible or not, which would you choose?”

“What brought this on?” He father looked at him with concern and curiosity (and still a moderate amount of vexation). “I thought you weren’t jealous of Dick?”

Damian glared at his father. “I’m not _jealous_! I’m _protecting_ Richard! Your refusal to answer is answer enough!” 

He understood how important one’s parent could be. Damian was immensely proud of his heritage and was aware that it had played a vital role in shaping his personally. He also used it to his advantage whenever he could. Even still, he would never trade Dick for either of his parents. Even when he still wished for a scenario in which he could be with both of his parents together, he wouldn’t have given up Dick to obtain that life. 

He couldn't see how is father would.

Damian had never felt so angry on someone else’s behalf before. His favorite brother was loyal and devoted. He never strayed from their father’s code. He deserved better. He’d earned better.

“How could you choose them over _Richard_?!” 

His father looked even more confused at the hostility in that last question. His voice was even, though the evenness was notably forced, when he answered. “I specifically said I was _not_ making a choice, Damian.”

“Not making a choice _is_ making a choice! Your parents aren’t here to potentially take offense, so you aren’t protecting anyone’s feelings. You’re refusing to answer because you know the truth is cruel!” Damian’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He glared up at his father. “Admit it!”

His father studied him carefully, taking in his posture and anger. He took a breath and appeared to calm himself down. His hand returned to Damian’s shoulder. “I’ll admit that I miss my parents often. But do you know what I’m thinking when I miss them now?”

Damian shook his head. He was too angry to speak without saying something hurtful. Part of him wanted to say it anyway. He wanted to get revenge for the hurt this had caused Dick over the years he’d loved a father that apparently didn’t love him back as much as he deserved. 

His father knelt down in front of him and looked up into his face as he continued explaining. “I’m thinking that I wish they could know their grandchildren. I’m thinking of how much I would like for them to be a part of your lives. I’m thinking of how much I wish they could share my pride in each of you. 

“I wish my mother could have read to you, the way she used to read to me when I was a boy. I wish my father could have given Dick the dating advice that he never got to give me. I wish they could talk Shakespeare with Jason and that they could see everything Tim’s doing with the family business. I wish they could watch Cassandra dance. I wish they could have been there when Dick entered the police force or when Jason finally came back to us. I wish they could see how your anger and your temper cool down when your working with your pets.

“I wish they could taste Jason’s cooking or hear the way Tim’s mind works. I wish they could experience the way Dick lights up a room when he’s happy. I wish they could watch you and your sister practicing your swordplay together. I wish they could see the five of you, working together and supporting one another. I wish they could have gotten the chance to love each of you the way I do.”

His father shook his head and put his other hand on Damian’s other shoulder. “I will always miss my parents, Damian. I’ll always wish they were here. But _you_ are my family now. I would never trade _any of you_, for them, or anything else. I promise you.”

Damian believed him. He’d never heard his father sound so mournful, so proud, and so affectionate before. He never seen his father’s eyes so bright and passionate. He’d seen passion in them, but it was born from righteous anger or a sense of justice. This was different. Damian had never experienced anything like it. The closest thing was when Dick spoke to him about missing him or promising that he still loved him, even when they were apart. 

His father gave him -gave them both- a moment. Then his expression turned calm and his voice grew gentle again as he asked a couple questions of his own. “Now, what is all of this about? Did something happen to make you question this?”

Damian couldn’t help but answer, although he’d never tell the part that Timothy said Dick was frightened to speak to their father of. He wouldn’t betray his eldest brother that way. “Richard believes -entirely- that you would choose your parents.”

His father immediately looked pained and concerned. “Did Dick tell you that?”

Damian wanted his father to know enough that he could reassure Dick. He knew Timothy would hold his own if either his father or their eldest brother expressed displeasure in him. “He told Drake that. Drake told me when he was explaining why I shouldn’t call myself your only ‘real son’. He said it hurt Richard to have to question it again.”

“To have to question...” His father looked confused very briefly, before he worked out the rest. Then he looked remorseful and a little stunned. “...Whether I love him as my son?” He appeared to be thinking, looking over his memories of Dick’s childhood and the last few years for evidence of what he’d just been told. “I didn’t realize he still worried about that.”

His father looked so sad then, Damian wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Cheering people up was more Dick’s area. Damian was better at cutting down their enemies with words or swords. He didn’t know what his brother would say, and texting either him or Drake was out of the question at present. However, he knew what Dick would do if he were there. 

So he slowly wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders and pulled him close. He patted his back with one hand. The motion was stiff and unfamiliar. He still wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing, hoping his presence and the gesture of affection would be comfort enough.

For a moment, his father was incredibly still, as though he had found himself in the jaws of a dangerous animal rather than his thirteen-year-old son’s embrace. But then he wrapped his arms around Damian and held him comfortably. For a little while, neither of them moved or spoke. 

Then his father rubbed his back and kissed his hair. He spoke quietly. “I love you, Son. Never doubt that.”

“I don’t, Father.” Damian didn’t doubt it. Instead, he felt it in a way he hadn’t before. It was a good feeling. One that Dick should experience as well. “You should tell Richard that as well.”

His father moved back and held onto his shoulders once again. His eyes held a type of pride and warmth that Damian had never seen either of his parents direct at him before. “I will. Thank you, Damian. I’m glad you came to me with this.” 

A smile graced his face. “You’re a good brother.”

They remained still and silent again. Damian was aware that one of them had to say something, but he didn’t know where to go from there and his father didn’t appear to either. 

So he asked the first thing that came to mind. 

“Richard rescued an alpaca with the Blüdhaven police. If they can’t find housing for her, may I keep her here?”

His father had made it very clear that he was to ask him -or Pennyworth, in his absence- before acquiring any more pets. Damian realized he probably should have thought of that before making Dick request the animal on his behalf, but he figured if his father said ‘yes’ it wouldn’t matter that he’d made his arrangements out of order. If he said ‘no’ and Damian got the alpaca anyway, then he’d rather beg forgiveness and have an alpaca than protect his pride and risk the animal being put down or sent somewhere with substandard living conditions. As a last resort, he could always send the animal to the Kent farm. The Kents emotions were much easier to play on than his own family’s.

His father blinked and appeared to take a second to ensure he understood that question before he surprised Damian by grinning and shaking his head in amusement. He even huffed out a very soft laugh. “Yes, Damian. If they can’t find it a proper home, then we’ll take it.”

His thumb stroked Damian’s shoulder through his shirt. He was still wearing the tiniest of grins. “Do you know anything about keeping an alpaca?”

“I texted Drake. I’ll know plenty well before she ever arrives.” Damian was completely confident in that. Timothy always came through, especially with information, and Damian doubted there would be any aspects to keeping an alpaca that would prove too difficult for himself or Pennyworth. They did an exemplary job of caring for his cows, turkeys, duck, and rabbits, after all. 

Sure enough, he started receiving information about alpaca care and housing the following day. As usual, it was all broken down in such a way that there wasn’t any unnecessary or redundant content. There weren’t any opinions or asides, just the facts that Damian would need if he had to prepare for an alpaca to arrive and then care for the animal afterwards. Damian passed along the instructions on how to measure an alpaca for a halter to Dick, so his eldest brother could get the measurements for him. That way, he wouldn't have to wait if he learned the animal was coming to the Manor. 

He also asked about Dick’s day and told him a little about his own. 

The next evening, his father told him that they weren’t going patrolling. Instead, his father said that he needed to go to Blüdhaven, to speak with Dick. Normally, Damian was irritated when he wasn’t allowed to go with his father. This time, he didn’t mind if it meant his father wanted some time to speak to Dick alone. He could tolerate one night of boredom if it meant his favorite brother would feel assured of his place among their father’s family. 

Damian was slightly surprised when his father gave him a choice rather than just tell him what he expected him to do that evening. 

“Jason has some business to attend to in Red Hood’s territory, but Tim said he’d take you out if you still want to patrol. Otherwise, you can stay in, if you want some time for yourself. If you stay, you have to mind Alfred. If you go, you have to mind your brother.” 

His father fixed him with a serious expression. “I mean it. If I hear you two were fighting, or you disobeyed a direct order, or went off to do whatever you wanted without listening to Tim, then it won’t happen again. You won’t be going out with him, or me, for the next month. Understood?”

There wasn’t any accusation or challenge in his father’s tone, only warning. He wasn’t suggesting that Damian _would_ do each or any of those things. He was merely making sure that he knew they weren’t acceptable should the urge to do them arise while on patrol with his least liked sibling. He was making sure Damian knew what the consequences of his actions would be if he broke the rules. Now that Damian knew how to detect this (thanks to his adopted siblings), he wasn’t as bothered by the words as he would have been before. 

Besides, the last time Timothy had taken him out while Dick was busy (and serving as Batman), it hadn’t gone very well. In his defense, Damian hadn’t known Timothy much at all then, and had made certain unfavorable assumptions. One was that Timothy coming up with a contingency plan in case Damian turned bad meant Timothy had already decided he was evil and intended to use said plan. The other was that Timothy hadn’t been holding back the last time they’d fought. Damian still thought it was incredibly foolish that he’d done so, but his family had certain notions about harming children that he’d decided to just accept at face value because he’d honestly never understand them. 

Now, however, he knew Timothy better. Not as well as he knew his other siblings, but well enough to respect him, even if he’d never admit that aloud. 

He knew the other boy always had a plan. He was fairly sure Timothy had contingency plans for his contingency plans. He had a plan for how to take on just about every hero and villain they knew about, just in case he ever needed to. Said plans were like puzzles or brain exercises the other boy solved when he was bored. The fact that Damian was on that list simply meant Timothy was smart enough to recognize him as a potential threat and knew he needed to go in with a plan should he ever have to fight Damian. 

Damian was fairly certain he could patrol with Timothy without attempting any violence against him or inflicting any serious insult. He was more certain that he could listen to the other boy now. They might not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but Timothy knew what he was doing and he did it well. Damian could do things his way for one night. Most likely. 

He could _try_ anyway.

He still wasn’t going to refer to it as Timothy ‘taking him out’ as if he were a child in need of a chaperon. Timothy might be slightly older and have more experience in Gotham, he might be a better detective and strategist- and few could match the boy’s skill with technology- but outside of that, Damian was certainly his better in every aspect. “I’ll accompany Drake, then. When should I expect him?”

“He’ll be meeting you in the Cave at the usual time we head out.” His father stroked his head and offered another warning. This one was gentler, the threat alone was enough to impress the seriousness of it. “Make sure you have your schoolwork and chores done first, or you’ll answer to Alfred.” 

“Yes, Father.” No one wanted to incur the wrath of Pennyworth. Damian always had his schoolwork done on time. His brothers had warned him about that even before his father had laid down the rules back when he first started finding his place within the family.

Timothy arrived in the Redbird, already suited up, right on time. He greeted Pennyworth, who was clearly preparing to wait out the night at the Bat-Computer, should any of the family members out that evening require him. After a brief exchange with the man, Timothy turned to Damian. 

“Hey, Robin, you ready?”

“I just need to grab my sakabatō.” He purposefully waited until Timothy arrived, just to ensure the other boy wouldn’t respond unfavorably to his sword. He would rather they have that argument in the Cave, with Pennyworth present, than have it come up during patrol and potentially get him grounded. However, Timothy just nodded for him to get his sword. He didn’t appear to be bothered, nor he did he appear to be in a notable rush. 

“I have a murder case to check up on with Detective Bullock and we should take a peek at what the Trey Street Samurai are up to. They’ve been unusually active lately and we’ve seen some new guns that suggest they’re entering a new revenue. Otherwise, its just standard patrol unless Red or one of Oracle’s birds needs some backup. You have anything we need to look into?”

That was new. Damian’s father wasn’t huge on explaining more than he needed to and he rarely asked if there was anything Damian wanted to look into further. Not that Damian needed to be asked. He had no problem demanding whatever he felt was needed. Still, it was different. Damian supposed it was because Timothy was currently coming from a more traditional partnership than Batman tended to cultivate. 

“No.” Damian got in the passenger seat and frowned at the harness-style seat belt. He assumed it was only for chases or even that the car might have had some hidden qualities, until Timothy got in the car and told him to buckle up. He simply stared at the other boy for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“You’re thirteen. Yes, I’m serious.” Timothy connected his own harness and then didn’t move until Damian buckled his seat belt. Then, he started the Redbird and left the Cave. “Try to be on your best behavior when we’re talking to Detective Bullock. He takes a little while to warm up to new vigilantes.”

Damian had heard that Bullock was one of the most difficult members of the GCPD to work with until one had earned his respect and perhaps even trust. Damian didn’t like the idea of being expected to earn anything from the man, but he understood why it was unwise to antagonize him. “Father and Richard have both warned me of him.”

Timothy just gave a nod as he continued driving. “Good. Then you know what to expect.” 

Detective Bullock clearly wasn’t sure about Damian’s presence when they arrived at an ally where he was waiting. He looked at Timothy, jerking his head toward Damian as he referred to him. “What’s with the angry bird? Ain’t he usually with the Bat? You takin’ a turn training him or something?”

Damian crossed his arms and raised his head, looking down his nose at the detective. He was about to make a comment on how he didn’t require any further training, especially from a boy only a few years his senior, but thought better of it. Insulting either Bullock or Timothy could come back to bite him. There were multiple ways such a comment could reach his father. Instead, he simply sniffed and looked away, trying to give the impression that Bullock wasn’t worth his time. 

Timothy answered instead. His tone was calm but not entirely unhurried. They all had things to do and he clearly wanted to get on with them. “Something came up. Batman was needed elsewhere. Don’t worry, it doesn’t concern the GCPD.” 

Red Robin’s voice wasn’t deep or growly like Batman’s voice. There was something about it though… A confidence it possessed that normally wasn’t so prevalent when Timothy spoke. It gave the distinct feeling that the teenager was in control of more of the situation than anyone could know. It made whoever he was addressing know who was the more knowledgeable between them. 

It clearly worked on Bullock, because he dropped the subject and handed Timothy an SD card with all the information on the case he’d contacted him to discuss. 

Damian had to admit, if only to himself, he was a little impressed. 

“Just tell me if its her.” Bullock didn’t sound dismissive or demanding. He sounded like he was concerned but trusted that Red Robin would be able to give him a finite answer once he’d caught up on the case. 

Apparently, a murder had occurred with some striking similarities to a string of murders that Detective Bullock and Timothy had worked together back when the other boy was serving as Robin. While Timothy had identified the killer and prevented another murder, the woman had escaped and virtually vanished. 

Timothy looked through all of the information swiftly but with great care. He looked around the alley -the murder scene- as he did so. Only the lower half of his face was visible in the cowl he wore, and his expression on the exposed part was doleful but otherwise unreadable.

Finally, he closed the file and ejected the card from his gauntlet. “It isn’t her. You’re looking for a different woman, smaller; probably about five-seven and a hundred-twenty-five pounds. Wears a size eight shoe. I analyzed the only stand-out hair on him. It belonged to a brunette with naturally curly hair. 

“She didn’t attack head-on like the other one. She distracted him, led him into the alley for something else, then cut too quickly for him to stop her. After that, he was too busy trying not to bleed out to engage her. She didn’t run off either. She walked out of the alley and blended into the crowd.” 

Timothy handed back the SD card. “Check the cameras nearby. Look for someone who could pass for any common pedestrian, including a drug dealer or prostitute. She probably had a connection to him. This looks like it was personal. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Bullock took note of the description as he nodded. He sounded relieved. “Thanks, kid. I’m just glad it isn’t the other one.”

Timothy released a breath of relief as well. “So am I.” 

“So, uh, not to get too personal or anything but-” Bullock tapped his jaw and then nodded toward Red Robin, eyeing what was visible of his face. “You okay? You’re lookin’ even paler than usual.”

Timothy nodded once. “I intervened on the Joker’s plans when he escaped the last time. Got hit with the chemical he was using on a kid he’d taken. Fortunately, it was only a skin bleach.”

“Yeah, I heard you were involved in that mess.” Bullock gave a respectful nod, the kind he’d offer another detective whose work he’d admired. “Good work. The kid’s fine, from what I heard, and it looks like the Joker isn’t going to be kidnapping anymore kids now. You did the whole city a solid.”

“I did what I had to.” Timothy readied his grapple. “I’ll let you know what I come up with on your suspect.”

With that, Timothy and Damian left the crime scene to Bullock. 

“How did you know he was in need of your assistance?” From what Damian had heard, it didn’t sound as though they already been discussing the case. Clearly, Timothy had some idea of why he’d been called upon; he’d referred to it as a murder case before they met up with Bullock. At the same time, he hadn’t appeared to have his usual level of information going in. Instead working mainly from what Bullock gave him.

“We worked together enough times when I was Robin that we anticipated a situation where he’d need to alert me. I gave him a small bird statue I’d picked up at a flea market -completely untraceable- and told him to use his desk lamp so its silhouette would be visible from his office window if he needed my help.” Timothy wore the smallest grin as he continued. “What he doesn’t know is that I have the Red-Computer constantly monitoring a security camera from a nearby building that captures his window. I programmed it to recognize the silhouette and alert me if it does.”

The grin faded away as quickly as it appeared. “He used it earlier, so I took the liberty of checking his cases. It was easy enough to guess which case he wanted my eyes on. I didn’t get all the details until we met him though.”

“So you essentially created your own Bat-Signal?” Damian wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. 

“Well, a much more discreet version of one, but yeah.” Timothy shrugged. “I’d actually based it on something I saw in a movie when I was little. Only that one hadn’t involved computers.”

Damian didn’t comment as they kept moving. He thought the idea of his own signal might be something to keep in mind for the future. Actually, he recalled hearing that Gordon had made a Robin-Signal back when Timothy had been the main vigilante Gotham had while Batman was missing and presumed dead. Perhaps they could put that into operation whenever he started going out solo. 

Timothy waited until they stopped on a different rooftop halfway across town (pausing to stop a few crimes along the way) before commenting to Damian again. “We should head toward the old cement plant to see if we can catch up with the Samurai. If we end up engaging, I need you to stay behind me and follow any direct commands right away, okay?”

Damian had no problem fighting beside Timothy. He did have a problem with being told to stay behind him and follow his command so calmly, as if he were new to all this. “Don’t condescend me, Red Robin. I have fought alongside _Batman_ and _Nightwing_. I’m sure I-”

Timothy interrupted him with that calm, confident tone that said he was in control. “And both Batman and Nightwing have had trouble with you not listening at times. You do that here, you’re going to get someone shot. Can I count on you to follow directions? If so, just say ‘okay’ and wait for me to engage. If not, go wait in the car and we’ll finish patrol when I’m done here.”

Damian kind of wanted to hit him. Actually he _really_ wanted to hit him. Instead, he took a deep breath, the way he’d been taught by their brothers. He took a moment to think on the situation, as he’d also been taught to. 

In doing so, he understood the other boy’s dilemma. As much as Damian didn’t think it was necessary to have a keeper, Timothy was responsible for him that night. He’d have to answer to Damian’s father and possibly each of their siblings or Pennyworth if anything happened to him. He was right that Damian had disregarded both his father’s and Dick’s instructions in the past. If the situation they were about to confront was what Timothy was expecting (and there was no reason to think it wasn’t) then working as a unit would be crucial. That had been difficult if not impossible for them in the past, and now Timothy was used to his regular partner, as was Damian. 

He took another moment to quell his temper before responding. His tone wasn’t as calm or controlled as he would have liked, but he meant what he was agreeing to. He really did want to handle this the right way. “Okay.”

Timothy simply nodded, accepting Damian’s word, and led the way. 

It was no surprise that the gang was exactly where Timothy has suspected and were moving weapons, also as he’d suspected. Timothy spoke so quietly that Damian had to listen through the comm in his ear to hear him. 

“On my mark, toss a couple flash grenades in the Southwest corner. Drop down after I give the word. Have your Batarangs ready. And don’t get in front of me.”

Damian had resented the ‘stay behind me’ remark earlier. The change in phrasing made him consider that he might have misunderstood. That maybe it wasn’t about Timothy treating him like a child that needed to be shielded so much as Timothy not wanting him in his line of fire now that he was using projectile weapons as prominently as his bo staff. The rephrase also made him wonder if Timothy had caught on to how he had interpreted the statement.

He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the mission as soon as Timothy gave the ‘go’ signal.

Between the flash grenades he threw and the ones Timothy did, they were able to temporarily blind the gang members in the old cement factory. Having the Batarangs ready had been a smart move too, since he’d needed to throw them as soon as he hit the ground when the exterior guards ran inside to see what was happening. He made two drop their guns right away while Timothy caught three in a reinforced net he’d fired from his pellet launcher.

After enough men moved in that it became dangerous to use projectiles, Timothy said “Switch to melee” as he opened up his bo staff (striking several Samurai in the process). Damian took that as his cue to unsheathe his sakabatō. The Trey Street Samurai were one of the most skilled gangs in Gotham, but the two of them had little trouble taking down the initial wave of gang members. In fact, Damian thought it was going to be a pretty tame take-down by his standards. Then Timothy told him to get behind him. Damian turned toward him to find out why, when several things happened very quickly. 

Damian heard the sound of multiple automatic weapons loading just as Timothy’s jikatabi style boots connected with his chest, knocking him down. Timothy caught himself with a roll, landing seated in front of his brother and shoving Damian’s head down as he said “Stay down” and simultaneously opened his Inertrite wings behind him. He had his own head down, and kept one hand on Damian’s head to ensure it remained shielded. At the same time, the sounds of dozens of bullets striking Timothy’s wings filled Damian’s ears while Timothy reached into one of his utility pouches. 

Damian remained absolutely still. He and Timothy were very close in size. If it weren’t for the Inertrite wings, the other boy likely wouldn’t have been able to shield him from the barrage of bullets. Any shifts of movement could put him in the line of fire. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Timothy’s voice sounded through the comms, cutting through the sound of gunfire and metal against Inertrite. He pressed a small cylinder into Damian’s hand as he spoke. “When I say ‘go’, toss this over my-” His words were interrupted by a short hiss and a flinch that would have been imperceptible had he not been Damian’s own human shield at the moment. “Over my right shoulder and get onto the catwalk above us with your grapple.” 

“Right.” In the current situation, Damian wasn’t going to waste any time arguing. He took the projectile and gripped his grapple with his other hand, keeping himself as still as possible as he did so, to avoid the gang’s fire. 

“Go.” Timothy threw a smoke bomb even as he spoke. The cylinder he’d given Damian turned out to be the same. There was something different about the smoke, but Damian didn’t take the time to question or inspect it. 

Instead, he fired his grapple and got onto the catwalk above them as Timothy had requested. He heard several odd shots ring out from below as he hoisted himself over the railing. It was definitely a firearm, but not any he was familiar with. Looking down, Damian saw that Timothy had fired his pellet launcher, and the smoke they’d thrown before appeared to be electrified somehow, like a billion tiny robots all frying themselves out simultaneously. The Samurai each hissed in pain, dropped their weapons, and attempted to cover any exposed skin. 

Timothy had activated or swiftly attached a muzzle-type mask to his face, so the entirety of his body was now covered. Again, he addressed Damian quietly through their comms. “Don’t come down until the smoke clears and keep an eye on my six.”

That was when Red Robin moved. For the first time, Damian could see all the fight training he’d heard the other boy had. He wasn’t as strong as their father or Jason. He wasn’t as natural as Dick or Cassandra. He was fast and precise though, and he knew how to use his size, speed, dexterity, and weapons effectively. 

Damian also saw that strategic sense his father had spoke of with such reverence. And the swift mind his grandfather so desired. It was as if the boy was playing a deadly game of chess wherein he already knew what his opponent’s next moves were going to be. He’d won as soon as they’d moved their first pawn.

Timothy’s voice spoke into Damian’s comm again as he struck a gang member with his bo staff while kicking another to put some distance between them. “Eastern corner.”

Two gang members had recovered their guns. Damian disarmed them with his Batarangs just as they took aim at Red Robin. Then he used one of his Robin-Stars to loosen a large chain he spotted on a boom above them, and the heavy metal knocked the men down, leaving them stunned and likely concussed. By then, many of the men below were unconscious. The smoke had cleared entirely, leaving no trace behind, and Damian used his grapple again to lower himself back down to finish off the Samurai that remained fighting. 

To his surprise, he and Timothy fought well together. The other boy adjusted his movements to make space for Damian and didn’t express any concern when he drew his sakabatō again. The fight was over quickly after that, with no casualties. Most of the gang members were unconscious. Some had simply given up and allowed themselves to be secured once they saw the fight wasn’t going to end in their favor. Damian wasn’t sure if those men were weak or just smart. 

Timothy turned to Damian after each of the gang members were secured and offered him an SD card. “Gordon’s already on the way. Why don’t you meet him out front? Give him this. Tell him it has everything he needs to hold these guys for weapons trafficking, grand larceny, kidnapping, and several assaults. He’s more familiar with Batman and Robin and it’ll do him good to build a rapport with you.”

It was a sound point. Damian figured he _should_ work on his rapport with Gordon since he intended to operate in Gotham for many years to come. He took the evidence card without comment and headed out front. 

He didn’t have to wait long before he saw the flashing lights of the GCPD. Gordon stepped out of the first car to arrive and immediately approached Damian. “Where’s Batman? Do you need an EMT?”

Damian wasn’t sure whether he should take offense or not. He didn’t like the implication that he couldn’t have done this without Batman’s assistance, but he appreciated the concern the other man showed for his father. He also supposed it was a fair enough question since Damian had never interacted with Gordon by himself before unless Batman was MIA.

“Batman is attending to another duty at present. He requested that I give you this.” Damian offered the SD card. “It contains everything you need to arrest these men for weapons trafficking, grand larceny, kidnapping, and several assaults. I trust you to handle your end from here.”

Gordon looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised, impressed, or amused as he took the card. “Thank you, son. I suppose you need to catch up to your…uh, Batman, now?”

“Yes. The city doesn’t protect itself.” With that, Damian fired his grapple and made a rather impressive exit. He put a few buildings between himself and the GCPD before speaking into his comm. “I’ve handled the GCPD. Where are you?”

“Look to your left.”

Damian did. He saw Timothy wave to him from a couple buildings over. He’d removed the extra mask and looked ultimately alright. Damian had been _slightly_ concerned during the shootout before, when the other boy had hissed out in pain. Timothy spoke and moved as though he were fine though, so Damian was no longer apprehensive that the evening was going to be cut short or that the other boy was going pass out on him or the like. 

Unlike Batman, who would have waited for Damian to make his way to him, Timothy met Damian halfway. “Good job with Gordon. You ready to patrol?”

Damian was beginning to think this had been a very wise decision. He was definitely accomplishing more than if he’d stayed home. “Certainly. I’m always prepared.”

Timothy grinned. “Like a Boy Scout from hell.” He held up a hand when Damian glared at him. “That wasn’t an insult. They’re a prepubescent paramilitary organization an their motto literally is ‘Always Be Prepared’. 

“But they aren’t nearly as deadly as you, so…” Timothy motioned over Damian. “Boy Scout from hell.” He shrugged. “My humor needs some work.”

He nodded to Damian, sounding confident. “You’ll get it eventually.” Then he turned without waiting for a response and waved for Damian to come with him. “Let’s go stop some more bad guys.”

Damian decided he might as well continue with patrol for now and check up on the Boy Scout thing later. Although he doubted Timothy had given him false information. It wasn’t like the other boy to do that. He still wasn’t sure he liked the comparison, though.

Their patrol went more smoothly than Damian had expected. Timothy only told him to stand down once, when he was apparently getting too rough with a man who had hit his girlfriend and began kicking her dog when the animal moved to defend her. Of course, the fact that Timothy tased the man as soon Damian released him helped prevent the fight he’d been ready to start. 

Timothy checked the dog once he’d secured the assailant and was sure Damian wasn’t going to assault him anymore. He used a long bandage to secure a leg that appeared to be dislocated and addressed the crying woman. “Take your dog to the Gotham Animal Sanctuary over on the North End. If you can’t afford his care, the Wayne Foundation has a program you can apply for. It’ll likely cover everything.”

She nodded her thanks and took off with her dog right away. Timothy said nothing until they’d taken to the roofs again and were out of earshot of the criminal they’d left for the GCPD. “The dog’ll be okay, Robin. The Wayne Foundation has a good program. I’ll follow up on it myself, okay?”

“Her application for aid will be accepted?” Damian didn’t challenge it when Timothy nodded. For any of the issues they had between them, Damian knew the other boy was true to his word. He nodded in return. He still felt the man deserved the beating he’d began to unleash on him when Timothy stopped him, but knowing the dog would be cared for was a suitable balm for the ire he felt. 

“You okay to keep patrolling?” Timothy asked in a reasonably concerned tone. “Or do you need to cool down a little first?” 

That last question reminded Damian that Timothy was used to a hot headed partner. He didn’t take as much insult at the thought that he might require a cool down period after that. He supposed Timothy would ask the same of Jason, if their big brother had been extra vicious in taking down a criminal. Actually, he supposed Timothy had already asked his usual partner that very same question several times already. 

Still, he didn’t need any such cool down time. “I’m not going to use any excess force on the next criminal we stop just because this one angered me. I have more self control than that. Let’s go.”

He expected them to move on. He hadn’t expected them to move on without any form of lecture or comment on his inappropriate behavior. Yet, Timothy just started moving again. 

“What do you plan to tell my father of this?” Damian asked when he landed on the next rooftop just a few seconds after the other boy. 

“If it doesn’t happen again, nothing.” Timothy sounded like he wasn't surprised by the question but also didn’t see the need for it. “We all have bad nights and cases that get under our skin. We all have certain crimes that we find especially repulsive for whatever reason. No one expects you to be an exception. Just don’t make a habit of reacting the way you did tonight.”

Timothy hesitated briefly, then continued. “Look, I know you don’t want to right now, but if you ever need to talk about such a night or case or crime, then speak up.” He gently gripped Damian’s upper arm, but quickly released it before he could respond. “Any of us will be there to listen when you need it. And trust me; eventually, you’ll need it. We all do, sooner or later.”

Damian didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to. That was apparently fine with Timothy. They continued on their patrol without any further comment on the dog incident or the offer to talk.

The rest of the night was uneventful by their usual standards. They stopped many crimes on the streets. No one went too far with any of the criminals. Timothy wasn’t domineering as their father tended to be when he donned the cape and cowl, but he also never allowed Damian to take the lead. Instead, he treated Damian as an equal and showed that he expected to be treated the same. It took a little getting used to, but Damian thought that he could enjoy that type of partnership one day, should he ever find a suitable partner. 

Red Robin checked in with Red Hood at one point during the night. His ‘business’ was apparently going well. Once it was taken care of late into the night, he alerted them that he was patrolling as well and to call on him if they needed a hand. Occasionally, he and Red Robin spoke over the comms for no apparent reason but to remind the other that they were there or to entertain themselves. They sounded like they always communicated in such a way, but they also had no problem with including Robin. 

“I swear, thieves are getting dumber.” Jason commented over comms with no prompting or further ado at one point. “These idiots actually _parked_ their getaway car. In a _tow-away_ zone. It got booted. They tried to evade on foot, while carrying like forty pounds of loot…one jackass almost got hit by a cab.”

“I dunno...” Timothy responded easily, despite being in the middle of a fight with a few members of a smaller, less trained gang. “I think a lot of them were always pretty dumb. I had a guy hide in a closet once and think he could wait until me and GCPD left because he tried to make it look like he was eaten by piranhas. _Black_ piranhas. The kind that don’t eat people.”

“Did anyone other than you actually know that black piranhas don’t eat people?” Jason asked conversationally, despite the sound of of a fist striking flesh in the background.

Timothy likewise spoke calmly as he fired his grapple gun and took to the air. “Not initially.” 

“Then he wasn’t as dumb as these poor bastards.” The sounds of zip ties tightening could be heard below Jason’s voice, followed by nothing. “See? They’re getting worse. Robin, you wanna weigh in?”

“Most of the criminals I’ve faced since starting here have seemed rather stupid.” Damian considered the progression of crimes he’d witnessed since joining his father’s crusade. “Considering how many of us there are now and the fact that they still persist, I’d have to agree that they’ve grown dumber.”

The costumed lunatics, Damian got. They were crazy and therefore couldn’t be expected to rationalize. The organized crimes were going to continue to operate as long as enough of the city officials remained corrupt. Crimes of opportunity were terrible, but also something to be expected in a large city like Gotham. However, the boy didn’t understand how there were so many repeat offenders in a city with multiple highly skilled vigilantes on the prowl. They had to know their time was limited and most didn’t make enough from any one or two crimes to make it worth the risk. 

So he thought his brother’s theory that the thieves were growing less intelligent had plenty of merit. 

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Timothy commented. 

“Nope.” Jason agreed. 

The night continued this way. It was fun. Not something Damian usually experienced to such a degree when patrolling Gotham. 

Rather than send Damian back to the Cave (or truly, the Manor) at the usual time, Timothy actually started driving him back about an hour after he was usually sent home. 

“I don’t require an escort, Red Robin.” Damian crossed his arms over the silly harness he’d been required to buckle up again. “I’m not going to run off and cause trouble just because Batman isn’t here.”

“I didn’t think you were.” Timothy’s tone was unreadable as ever. He continued watching the road as he drove. His cowl blocked half of his face from view and what was visible gave away nothing. “Its later than you usually return to the Cave. Agent A knows you’re okay, but I thought it was only fair to give you a ride. Its a long trip back and its not like you haven’t had a busy night.”

They were fair points. Still, Damian wasn’t entirely certain why he was being taken home. “Do you expect to prevent Pennyworth from telling my father that I returned late?”

“No. But I’ll make sure he knows it wasn’t because of anything you did, if that’s something you’re worried about.” Timothy’s tone was neutral, even as he added a swift reminder. “And no names while we’re in the suits outside the Cave, or Bunker, or a haven.”

Damian was irritated that he’d slipped, but made no comment on it or the calm correction. “Are you going to tell Agent A of my supposed misconduct from before?”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Timothy paused briefly. “Did you _want_ me to tell him?” The slightest note of confusion on that last question was the most Damian could make out. 

“Of course not.” Damian frowned at the other boy. “So you’re simply giving me a ride to prevent me from further excursion?”

Timothy answered simply. “Yeah. When I was Robin, the trek home was usually the worst part of the night. I either kept stopping because I came across another crime until it was super late, even by our standards, or the adrenaline wore off on the way and I just felt exhausted and sore _and_ guilty because I knew there would be more crimes I could stop if I’d stayed out longer. Then it just seemed to take forever to get home.”

Damian didn’t say it, but the other boy was entirely correct. He felt very much the same way when he had to head home. He either knew he was passing on crimes he should be stopping, stopped to address the crimes and ended up tardy, or just felt like sleeping for days by the time he made it back to the Manor. Sometimes, he wondered if his father sent him back alone to teach him something or make some kind of point. Only if the night had been particularly stressful or if the weather was fowl, did his father drive him back. 

Or if he had to check the Bat-Computer anyway. Or speak to Alfred or have what was likely to be a lengthy conversation with one of the others over comms. Or if Damian seemed particularly tired or sounded as though he might be getting ill. Or if there had been any recent threats against the family that caused his father to be especially vigilant in his efforts to protect them. Or if a particularly concerning Rogue had broken out of Arkham or Blackgate.

On second thought, Damian had to consider that his father might think it was good for him to return on his own, but didn’t actually like the idea, and so he made excuses to drive him home whenever feasible. Perhaps, like Timothy, he just wanted to make it easier on Damian but didn’t express it so plainly. Perhaps he was concerned that Damian would react with the same suspicion or insult he’d initially reacted to Timothy driving him back. Perhaps Timothy had even told him of his difficulties in returning home solo during his term as Robin and he wanted to spare his son. It was something Damian hadn’t considered before. 

In light of his recent discussion with his father, Damian had to consider that maybe it was one of those odd ways the man tried to show that he cared. 

He decided to see what Timothy thought of the action. Of course, he didn’t come right out and ask the other boy what he thought of it. He saved that for moments of turmoil or questions of the utmost importance. “Sometimes Batman gives me a ride back with a fairly weak excuse for doing so.”

Timothy wore a tiny smile as he unknowingly confirmed Damian’s thoughts. “He should just say he wants to take you home. He’s probably afraid to let on that he’s getting soft, even if that softness only extends to his Robin.”

Damian was pleased at the confirmation that his father was showing care for him as his son. He was also pleased that he’d recognized it, even if he’d doubled checked his own conclusion with Timothy. 

Pennyworth was waiting for them in the Cave when they arrived. “I trust the evening has been successful thus far, young sirs?”

Damian answered as he hopped out of the Redbird. “Naturally. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary tonight. No breakouts or city-wide threats.”

“You should not sound so disappointed when you report such, Master Damian.” Pennyworth spoke dryly. He also surreptitiously looked over Damian and then Timothy. “I heard the police reports of Batman and Robin’s engagement with the Trey Street Samurai. I assume that was the two of you?”

Timothy nodded. “They started a new weapons racket. Its taken care of. Robin stuck around to give Gordon the details. We figured it would be a good idea to let them think it was Batman and Robin. Gives the impression Batman was out there tonight plus, GCPD’s more comfortable with them.”

“And you aren’t injured?” Pennyworth pointedly looked at Timothy’s side, where Damian just noticed a patch on the other boy’s suit. It matched the surrounding material in color and texture, camouflaging it quite well. He was certain it hadn’t been there when Timothy picked him up. 

“Just a graze. Nothing to worry about. We’re fine, Alfie.” Timothy pulled his cowl down and smiled softly at the old man. “Thanks for looking out for us.”

Pennyworth sighed quietly. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to talk you into ending your own patrols for the evening alongside your brother?”

Timothy shook his head. “I’m not leaving Jay out there alone. Don’t worry though. Its been a pretty tame night by Gotham standards and we’ll stick together. Promise.”

Damian crossed his arms and fixed a firm gaze on the other two. “I _am_ perfectly capable of continuing tonight. If you’re wound will be a problem or if Todd requires assistance-”

“Certainly not, Master Damian.” Pennyworth interrupted with authority. “Your father left strict orders for you to be in bed by now. I have your tea and bed ready. You are saying goodnight to your brother and going to bed.”

“Its fine, Damian.” Timothy spoke up before Damian could respond. “You already pulled your fair share tonight. If something big goes down, we’ll wake you. Otherwise, better to do as Alfred says. There’s nothing going on tonight that’s worth making the city go a week without Robin if you get yourself grounded.” 

That was true. That didn’t mean it might not also be platitude. Damian looked Timothy over, trying to read the other boy. Trying to figure out what his motivation was. Even with his cowl pulled down, it was difficult. However, Damian thought he finally got it. 

Timothy wasn’t just trying to placate him. He wasn’t being condescending. He wasn't simply trying to avoid confrontation. He wasn’t attempting to dismiss Damian. He wasn’t saying anything for appearances sake. 

He was simply being considerate. 

He was _always_ considerate. 

_That_ was what Damian kept missing when he tried to understand the other boy. That was why Timothy had held back when Damian attempted to kill him. It was why he’d accepted his presence afterwards without demanding restitution. It was why he answered each of Damian’s questions without fail or complaint. It was why he took the time to explain his relationship with Damian’s father, even though he hadn’t wanted to. 

It was why he made sure Damian knew he could come to him, no matter their differences. No matter if they’d been fighting. It was why he always made sure Damian knew he understood him and had his back. It was why he tended to remain respectful, even when they disagreed. 

_Compassion_. It was the other boy’s driving force. 

“You okay?” Timothy was watching him with mild concern visible in his eyes. 

“Yes.” Damian offered Timothy a respectful nod. “I was only thinking. You’re correct, Drake. I’ll retire as my father and Pennyworth desire. Wake me if you need assistance.”

Timothy offered an affable nod and small salute in return. “Got it.” He said goodbye to Pennyworth and pulled up his cowl before turning back into the Redbird to head out again. 

Damian was hesitant to let him go, however. His mind went back to their conversation in the car several days prior. He understood now that Timothy had likely meant everything he’d said about himself and their father. He realized he was right when he’d thought he saw sorrow in the other boy’s eyes. Timothy hadn’t wanted to talk about it because it still hurt him to think about. He’d talked about it anyway, because it was something Damian needed to hear. 

And after speaking to their father, Damian now knew something that Timothy needed to hear. 

“Drake, wait. I need to speak to you.” Damian turned to Pennyworth. He trusted and respected the older man, but he had no doubt he would report what was about to pass to his father. It would mean a lot to his father to hear it, but Damian wasn’t yet ready to have it known, even among the family. “Give us the room.”

Pennyworth arched a brow. “Excuse me, young sir?”

“Damian, no.” Timothy shot him a friendly warning look as he shook his head. “You do _not_ pull that with Alfred.”

“Indeed, you do not.” Pennyworth agreed with a firm tone.

Damian frowned. “Father says that whenever he needs to address me in private and everyone clears out.”

“Including Alfie?” Timothy looked like he doubted that. 

Thinking on it, Damian realized it was only ever his siblings, close friends, or employees his father used the ‘give us the room’ line with. Never Pennyworth. He always asked Pennyworth to excuse them when he wanted him to leave the room. “Perhaps not.”

Timothy, who was standing behind Pennyworth, tilted his head toward the clearly unamused man and mouthed the words ‘say sorry’. 

Damian nodded to the man. “My apologies, Pennyworth.”

The man returned the nod. “It is alright, Master Damian. I understand that you wish to speak to your brother alone, but next time, do be less dismissive. Yes?”

“Yes, Pennyworth.” Damian mostly just wanted this conversation over so he could get to the one he needed to have with Timothy. 

“Would you mind excusing us?” Timothy politely asked Pennyworth. He motioned toward the Bat-Computer. “We’ll keep an eye on everyone while we talk.”

“Very well, Master Timothy.” Pennyworth turned to Damian. “I shall be back to retrieve you as soon as I see the Redbird leave the Cave. Do not remain up for longer than necessary. It is already past your bedtime.”

“We’ll be quick, Alfie.” Timothy assured the man while Damian counted to ten to avoid snapping that he wasn’t a baby who needed to be tucked in. 

As soon as Pennyworth was gone, Timothy turned to Damian. His expression was slightly concerned. “What’s going on?”

Now that he was confronted with it, Damian wasn’t sure how to have this conversation. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, there was one thing he wanted understood before they began. “No one hears a word of this. I want your word.”

Timothy nodded, but added a caveat. “As long as you aren’t in any trouble that we’ll need help with, this stays between us.”

Damian crossed his arms and frowned. “I’m not in any trouble.” His eyes narrowed. “Do I have your word?”

The answer was simple and honest. “Yeah. Of course.” Timothy appeared less concerned but still focused. “So what’s up?”

Damian accepted him at his word. He also decided it would be easier if Timothy wasn’t watching him so closely. He pointed to the Bat-Computer. “Watch the monitor and listen.”

Timothy arched a brow but did as he was told.

Damian took a breath. “I spoke to Father about our discussion in the car the other day. I wanted to assure Richard that he had no cause for concern regarding his status with my- with Father. That was why he needed to go to Blüdhaven tonight. He’s going to speak to Richard.”

Timothy merely nodded that he understood. He looked mildly concerned but there was something else there as well. Damian thought he might have been relieved. 

He continued, pleased Timothy hadn’t tried to speak when he paused for thought. “I asked Father the hypothetical you had said was a concern of Richard’s -without telling him that it had come from Richard. And without telling him the part Richard wished to keep from him, of course.” 

Timothy merely nodded again, as though he hadn’t doubted that Damian would keep their brother’s secret, even after hearing he’d spoken to his father about it. 

“Father said he wouldn’t trade Richard for his parents. He said he loves each of his children differently but equally. He spoke of how he wished his parents were here, mainly so he could share his family with them. He said that _we_ are his family now, and spoke of different aspects of us that he wishes his parents could experience.” Damian took a breath and made it a point not to sound too bothered by what he was about to say. “He included you, when he spoke of it all.”

Timothy gave another nod. His eyes were sad again and the set of his jaw was concerned. 

Damian was confused for a brief moment. He’d expected Timothy to look relieved or happy. Finally, he thought he understood. He glared at the other boy, even if he was still watching the monitor. His tone was firm and challenging. “You don’t believe me?”

Timothy shook his head. “No, I believe you.” His tone was calm, caring. His expression was already more difficult to read as he attempted to put Damian at ease. “Thanks for telling me.”

Damian still didn’t understand. It was making him agitated but he tried to focus, to look at it as a case that needed to be solved. His father had been telling him he needed to work on the detective aspect of their vigilantism. As far as he could tell, Timothy was being honest. However, if he believed Damian, then he should be happy. 

Either Damian had misunderstood the other boy’s reaction in the car the other day, or it wasn’t _him_ whose honesty Timothy was uncertain of. 

“You don’t believe _him_.” Damian frowned. It was an odd thought, but it also made the most sense for the situation. “Why?”

“Because of everything I told you about…and more. There’s just…” Timothy shook his head. His eyes lowered for a moment and then returned to the monitor, watching Jason’s stats even as he replied. “There’s been too much.”

Damian didn’t find that particularly helpful on its own. “Too much of what?”

Timothy released a soft sigh. “Doubt. Contention. Back-and-forth. Mistrust.”

There had obviously been too much doubt between them for Timothy to feel the way he did while Damian’s father seemed clueless to the scale of their issues. He knew his father could be contentious, especially with his partners, so that wasn’t much of a surprise either. The back-and-forth had been a pretty clear issue, from what they’d previously discussed. Thinking on it, Damian could understand why the other boy would have question whether he was wanted or where he belonged. For the thankfully brief time that Damian had been passed between his parents, he’d felt somewhat adrift as well. At least he had known it was because they both wanted him; Timothy hadn’t had any such certainties. 

That last point gave Damian pause though. “He’s never mentioned mistrusting you.”

Timothy didn’t looked assured. That might have been because Bruce had mentioned it to _him_. Or it might have been because the mistrust went the other way.

“You mistrusted him.” Damian frowned when the other boy didn’t correct him. He knew there had to be a reason. “What did he do?”

“He kept too much to himself. His thoughts, his feelings, his plans. He questioned my motives too often, and my resolve. He revealed my identity twice without even telling me, let alone consulting me. I just-”

“He did _what_?” That was unforgivable among vigilantes and masked heroes. Damian had and would do many things that most ‘heroes’ wouldn’t approve of, but he would never reveal a family member’s identity. He doubted he would ever find circumstances when he would reveal any of their allies identities. 

His father was the most strict on keeping them secret. It was their last line of protection. Damian couldn’t see how his father would give someone’s secret identity away. And to betray his partner that way… “Why?” He hoped there was a good reason. 

“The first time, I could kind of understand. It was during the start of Thomas Elliot’s crazy plot. He told Catwoman both our identities. Like I said, I got it, but I’d wished he’d talked to me first.”

He should have. Damian would raise hell if his father gave away their identities without first discussing it with him. Even under the circumstances that Elliot had orchestrated. 

“The second time was while I was at that boarding school with Alfred. They’d gotten into a fight, then Bruce needed to reach me but I’d fallen asleep in a closet after too many long nights and he didn’t want to face Alfred. So he sent someone after me, even though I’d purposefully kept my identity from them.” Timothy’s voice was still calm, but he looked disappointed. 

Damian could see why. That wasn’t nearly a good enough reason. If his father had done that to him, he would’ve attacked the go-between, regardless of who it was. Of course, his father _couldn’t_ do that to him because giving away any of his children’s identities now would mean giving away all of their identities, including his own. 

Damian wondered if that was part of what the other boy had meant when he talked about the adoption being for security. Timothy hadn’t had that security back then, because most people didn’t have a reason to attach Tim Drake to Bruce Wayne. Only the people close to Timothy, which is why he had to keep his other identity a secret from them. Those who knew Robin, couldn’t know he was Tim Drake and vice verse; something everyone in the family knew he’d hated. For the first time, Damian realized just how difficult the other boy’s time as Robin might have been, even during the supposedly ‘easy’ times. 

And his father had made it worse. He’d made himself into someone that couldn’t be relied on or trusted. Damian wasn’t sure how he’d respond to that. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to continue on as his partner. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

Timothy still wasn’t looking at him, as promised, but he must have read something in the silence.

“Look, don’t think too badly about him for it. He’s learned a lot since then and he’s really trying with you. I can see how much better he is now, and I’m happy about that, really.” Timothy was trying to comfort Damian, to restore some of the pride he could see him losing in his father. 

However, what he was saying was also true. Damian was certain of that. 

He had to admit it wasn’t just kind of Timothy to be honest just then. It was smart. If he’d been caught in a lie, then none of it would mean anything. Instead, Damian had to acknowledge he was right. 

Timothy was equally honest when he explained why the changes in their father didn’t change much for him. “Its just…happening too late for me. The last couple of years have been too hard. I can’t open myself up to that kind of hurt again. Not yet.” 

He sighed. “So I guess this time I’m the one holding him at arms length.”

Damian shrugged. “Seems only fair, considering.” He’d personally opt for punishment rather than continue working with him while keeping an emotional wall up that the man likely couldn't see anyway. But he understood that Timothy wasn’t as vindictive as he was. 

Timothy wore a small, sad smile. “Thanks for understanding.”

There was another brief silence before Timothy broke it. “Is there anything else? I get it if you need to talk about any of that -its a lot to process- but Jay’s still out there and Alfie’s waiting for you to go to bed. We might want to start wrapping this up for tonight.”

Damian had told Timothy what he thought he’d need to hear. He’d also learned that it came too late, and why that was so. There really wasn’t anything more to say. “No, I don’t need anything. And you’re right; I shouldn't press my luck with Pennyworth.”

Timothy wore an almost-smile and turned to face him, now that the discussion was over. “Wise decision.” He patted Damian’s shoulder as he passed him. “Goodnight, Damian. Try to get some sleep.”

“You’ll call…if you hit any trouble?” Damian wanted to be sure. After what he’d learned, he wouldn’t fault the other boy if he didn’t. At least, not where their father was concerned. He didn’t know if he, too, was to be kept at arms length.

Timothy paused in the action of pulling his cowl back up. “Of course.” He made sure to look Damian in the eyes, his desire for his next words to be heard was clearly visible in his gaze. “And I expect you to do the same when you’re out there.”

Damian nodded. He couldn’t say why, but he felt better knowing he was trusted. That he was allowed close, despite his own past wrongdoing. 

Timothy offered him a small, reassuring smile before he pulled on his cowl. He then hopped into the Redbird and drove off.

As promised, Pennyworth arrived within two minutes. 

“Come now, Master Damian. Its high time you got ready for bed.” Pennyworth motioned for Damian to walk ahead of him. He did. “Did you have an enjoyable night patrolling with your brother?”

“Yes.” He had, actually. They’d made a surprisingly successful team in addition to their improved communication. “It was very…educational. And productive. I wouldn’t mind patrolling with Drake or Todd again in the future.”

“I’m sure your father will be very pleased to hear it.” The man sounded rather pleased himself.

Damian didn’t look behind him, but he was certain Pennyworth was smiling as he spoke. 

His father expressed the pleasure Pennyworth had suspected the next morning over breakfast. “You and Tim did good work with the Trey Street Samurai. We should see a decrease in armed crimes all around with that racket shut down.” He offered Damian a small smile. “And Tim said he was impressed by how well you’ve come along. He said he’d have no problem taking you out again the next time I’m out of town or working a case best served alone.”

Damian enjoyed the well-deserved praise, as always. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the notion that he’d ‘come along’ considering how skilled he’d already been upon arriving in Gotham. However, he didn’t know if that was his father’s phrasing or Timothy’s. Moreover, he had to admit, he hadn’t proved himself to be the best patrolling partner the first time Timothy and he had teamed up. He supposed his improvement in teamwork and listening was what the other boy had referred to. 

He also knew that the other boy must have gone out of his way to speak his praises to their father. Considering what he’d learned of how Timothy felt about their father, he recognized what an effort that was. 

“I’d find that satisfactory as well.” Damian decided it all wasn’t worth asking after, so he responded simply and then decided to move onto more pressing subjects. “What of your discussion with Richard? Has he been assured of his place within the family?”

His father’s smile grew slightly, despite Damian’s demanding tone. “Yes. We had a good, long talk. I think Dick and I are on the same page now.” He paused for a moment of thought. “Actually, it seems we were always on the same page, we were just never sure that we were.”

The smile turned into something more mild, but still pleased. “Most importantly, he knows he’s my son, first and foremost. That he always was and that nothing will ever change that. I wish I’d known he ever doubted it...” He looked slightly sad for a second, but then appeared proud as his attention returned to Damian. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

Damian offered a regal nod in acceptance of the well-deserved gratitude. However, he was mostly just happy that Dick was assured. “Richard deserved to have it address.”

“That he did.” His father agreed. 

His father ate another bite of his eggs and then spoke again, with a slightly teasing tone. “Oh, about that alpaca? Dick told the other interested party about our setup here for all your animals. After seeing the photos and hearing about it, they decided the alpaca would be better off here than the stable they’d intended to keep her in. She’ll be arriving once she’s finished her mandatory quarantine in a couple of days.”

“Yes!” Damian pulled out his phone and started scrolling through all of the alpaca care information Timothy had sent him. “According to Drake’s research, she should be perfectly happy in the barn with Bat-Cow and Kit-Cow. Fortunately, we opted for the cattle fencing over the corral, so its already secured enough for her. She’ll need different supplements, but Drake’s already marked the best suited and the company we order our feed from carries it. I’ve already passed along the instructions for measuring her for a halter, so Richard should be on that already.”

“Dick already purchased a halter and lead. Tim told Alfred everything he needed to have the feed order adjusted to accommodate her. We can stop by the pet store today to get anything else you need.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment. “I believe Tim said brushes and a trimmer would be required for the Summer?”

Damian nodded. He scrolled to the part about shearing in Timothy’s notes. “Yes. She’ll need to be sheared in the Summer. And I’ll have to brush her to keep her coat clean during the rest of the year. Not as often as Alfred requires it, mind, and she shouldn’t shed like the rabbits do.”

“Alfred will appreciate that.” His father looked pleased by that as he took a sip of his tea. He quickly swallowed and added a clarification. “_Alfred_ Alfred, not your cat.”

“Yes, I understood that.” Damian continued checking the information for anything else he should acquire for his new pet. He was pleased to note that alpacas made decent herding animals, and were known to protect their flocks from predators like coyotes or hawks. His smaller animals were well protected already, but encouraging such behavior from his newest pet would add an additional level if defense. He made a mental note to ask Timothy if she might be trained for other defenses as well. The possibility of an attack-alpaca was intriguing. Provided she herself was generally safe and healthy.

As he read, he skewered a seitan sausage with his fork and kept eating. “The shearer is also the only thing we should have to add to the animal first-aid kit. Everything else that works for the cows will work for her. Did Richard say if she’s been inoculated already?”

His father nodded. “She’s also been examined and cleared by a veterinarian in Blüdhaven. She needs to put on a little more weight, but otherwise she’s all set. I purchased a small trailer that we can use to pick her up. Clark will be bringing it by tomorrow afternoon.”

Alfred stopped in to refresh their tea and drop off some mail. “Master Damian, please cut your food on the plate before you eat it. You are not a caveman.”

His father motioned toward his son’s phone with his fork. And then motioned for it to be put down. “And I’m glad you’re excited about your new pet but that’s enough phone use at the table.” 

They were supposed to be adapting to a ‘no phones during family meals’ rule, but it was taking both Damian and his father some time to get used to it. That was likely why his father had let it slip for a while. He understood the difficulty in altering such a habit.

Damian refrained from rolling his eyes as he returned his sausage to his plate and set his phone down. He began thinking of names for his alpaca and he ate his food properly. ‘Bat-Alpaca’ was too wordy and sounded crude. He had pets named for Pennyworth, for his grandmother, and for Dick’s mother, but he didn’t believe any of his other siblings’ mothers were worthy of such an honor. He considered naming her for his own mother, but thought that neither of his parents were likely to appreciate that.

A few of his pets were named after characters from stories Damian or one of his siblings liked. Such as Thomasina (which Jason had wanted to name to go along with Jerry) and Goliath. That last name gave Damian an idea. Another giant, and also a titan. Dick would like it as well. “I’m going to name her Phoebe.”

His father mouthed the name to himself, clearly trying to commit it to memory. Or perhaps wondering where it had come from. Pennyworth commented that he thought it was a fine name. Damian appreciated that. 

However, with that settled, and no further alpaca preparations to consider, his mind kept returning to the previous night. And the conversation the week before that had led to it. 

“Pennyworth, would you excuse us? I need to speak to my father.”

Pennyworth gave one of those approving nods. His tone matched it. “Certainly, Master Damian.”

Damian wasn’t sure if the approval was solely because he’d asked politely this time or if Pennyworth suspected what he was going to talk to his father about. You never could tell how much the old man was aware of, but Damian wouldn’t be surprised if he knew of everything that occurred in the Manor and the Cave. 

“Something wrong?” His father looked curious and slightly concerned. 

Damian continued cutting his food. He was confident that his father would respond honestly after their last discussion. “I have another hypothetical to ask you.”

His father appeared to brace himself. 

“If you failed someone in the past and had improved in most of the qualities that had led to such a failure, but they considered it too late to repair the damage that had been done, how would you attempt to fix it?” Damian watched him as he chewed on some sausage. He’d cut it and eaten it properly this time.

His father looked thoughtful, but still slightly concerned and curious.“What type of failure are we talking about?”

Damian tried to keep his tone from sounding accusing. He thought he was successful on that front, but less so in keeping his general displeasure at the subject to himself. “Failure to express their value. Failure to keep your promises. Failure to defend something important which they’d trusted you with.”

His father’s expression was more confused after the clarification. His tone was assuring. “Are you still worried about Dick? Because we’re really okay now. He-”

Damian narrowed his eyes and interrupted. He didn’t like the implication that he was the sort to remain concerned about an issue once it had been settled. He had a stronger emotional constitution than that. “I’m pleased that Richard is assured. This isn’t about him. Answer the question.”

His father frowned slightly at his tone, but seemed more concerned with the conversation itself than the tone of it. Something appeared to occur to him. “Is this about me or about you?”

Damian frowned as well. He’d thought this question would be simpler to answer than the last one he’d asked his father. “It doesn’t matter, that’s why its a hypothetical.” 

“It mattered the last time you asked a hypothetical.” His father’s tone was dry. 

There was some merit to that concern, but Damian wanted an answer before he gave any information. As it was, there was something wrong with his father’s relationship with Timothy, but they’d arrived at some sort of accord. They could work together successfully and get along well enough during family activities. If his father learned of the problems he’d been thus far oblivious to and handled it wrong, that might no longer be the case. Regardless of his own turbulent feelings on Timothy, he understood that the other boy was necessary to his father’s crusade and that there was a strong personal attachment between them. 

Damian also found the other boy to be an invaluable resource. One he wasn’t about to give up. That all meant he had to handle the conversation with some level of care. 

“Well _this time_ its a hypothetical.” Damian continued eating his breakfast, hoping to look nonchalant, even as he watched his father with narrowed eyes. “How would you handle such a situation?”

His father watched him with intense focus for a long moment, as though he might be able to pull any further information from the sight of him. Finally, he appeared to think on the actual issue at hand. He took a sip of his tea and gave a small nod before speaking. 

“Failure to express their value should be simple enough to fix. I’d just make sure they know how much I value them now. Fail-”

His father had sounded quite confident in that statement, but Damian didn’t think it was actually going to be a simple fix. After all, he’d reported his father’s words to Timothy already and they hadn’t fixed anything. “How?”

His father’s brows rose slightly at the interruption. “What?”

Damian frowned. “_How_ would you ensure they now know they are valued?”

His father blinked and offered a small smile. “I’d tell them.”

Damian rolled his eyes. He’d already proved that wouldn’t accomplish anything on its own. “What if they didn’t believe you?”

His father’s brows drew into a frown. “Why wouldn’t they believe me?”

Damian sighed and glared at his father. He was starting to suspect the man was playing naive in the hopes that he’d get more information about the true subject of the question. He wanted answers, not games. “Because the previously stated failures have led to a sense of mistrust and a perceived lack of self-worth.”

“A lack of self-worth…in the hypothetical person you -or I- previously failed?” The way his father was clearly thinking while he sussed that out was enough to confirm Damian’s previous suspicion.

“Correct.” Damian pressed on before his father could try to ‘clarify’ anything else in an attempt to solve who Damian was asking for or about. “If they are already convinced you don’t value them, then simply stating that it isn’t true now isn’t going to accomplish much. They’ll believe you’re trying to appease them simply to keep the peace.”

His father nodded again as he turned a little thought toward the proposed scenario. “Then I’d ask them what made then feel that way and explain whatever words or actions had been misunderstood first, so they’ll see why they were wrong.”

The wording caught Damian’s attention. If his father approached with that attitude, Timothy would either feel convinced that Bruce was simply trying to dissolve the issue rather than fix anything, or he’d feel a further lack of worth. It wouldn’t solve the problem. 

He couldn’t say that outright, so he instead asked after the phrasing a more generic manner. “So you believe the fault lies with them?”

His father paused, and appeared to be considering his words. He didn’t seem to regret them, but he did tilt his head slightly as though conceding that the assumption might have been a touch brash as he explained his reasoning. “Not necessarily. The situation you’ve outlined might not be anyone’s fault. Its only reasonable to conclude that if you value someone but they don’t believe you do and _also_ suffer from a lack of self-worth, there’s likely been a misunderstanding somewhere along the line. Figuring out where that misunderstanding occurred and helping them see what you really thought is the best way to handle the problem.”

That made sense, except that Damian’s second discussion with Timothy suggested the problem wasn’t based on misunderstanding, but a lack of open expression on his father’s part along with a pretty significant betrayal. “But if you failed to keep your promises and failed to defend something they trusted you with, then might their lack of trust be based on something more substantial than their own feelings of inadequacy?”

“It might.” His father was starting to look more concerned again. “Was this a direct promise that was broken or one that was inferred?”

Damian considered all that he’d been told on the subject of his father and Timothy’s time as Robin. From the recent discussions and before. “Both.” 

His father frowned slightly. “So, hypothetically, it wasn’t a specific promise broken so much as a failure to keep my promises in general?”

Damian considered that. Considering that his father’s partnership with Timothy had been more contractual than with Dick or Jason, he wouldn’t be surprised if a literal, verbal promise had been made and then broken. However, he was certain that a large part of the issue had been a general failure or an accumulation rather than any one specific broken promise. “Again, both, but more of the latter.”

His father’s frown deepened. “And the failure to protect something they’d entrusted me with? Was that direct or collateral?”

“You likely considered it collateral, but they considered it a direct betrayal.” He paused a moment and then added, “With good reason.” He then immediately regretted it. Whether his father assumed they were talking about him or Damian, he now would be certain it wasn’t actually a hypothetical question.

His father gave a small nod. “Okay, I think I understand now.” He sounded like he did, but Damian wasn’t about to give anything else away by checking. His father took a breath and appeared to think for a moment, his expression solemn but determined. Finally, he looked at Damian again. 

“Damian, I can tell you’re bothered by this.” He offered a slightly somber smile. “And I’m happy to see you showing concern for your siblings. Just try to understand, sometimes we fail the people who mean the most to us. It doesn’t mean we don’t care or didn’t try. It doesn’t mean we can’t make it right.

“I’m already working on doing that. Have been since I came back after Darkseid. I’m going to talk to your brother, though, find out what specifically he’s bothered about and see what I can do to help him understand the situation as I saw it.” Bruce sighed, looking slightly remorseful. “We should have talked about it sooner. That’s on me.”

He offered Damian another small smile. “Thank you for giving me a kick in the ass about it.”

Damian looked down at his plate to hide his grin. “I’ll expect you to remember that if I ever have to do so again and you aren’t as pleased.”

His father gave a light laugh. They continued eating and the subject returned to Damian’s newly acquired pet.

The next morning, a package of gourmet doughnuts from a local quality bakery was delivered to the Manor with a small card. 

_For the best family a guy could ever ask for. _  
_With Love,_  
_Dick._

Several of the doughnuts had messages written in neat cursive or ‘cute’ childlike print. The messages were all repeats of the same few statements. ‘I love you’, ‘World’s Best Dad’, ‘World’s Best Brother’, and ‘World’s Greatest Grandpa’. There was one that said ‘World’s Best Mom’ and was filled with Alfred’s favorite custard. The man laughed softly when Damian pointed it out. 

Damian sent Dick a text thanking him for the treats. He brother texted back that he deserved them and that he loved him. 

Damian was pleased

While he was looking at animal coat care products at the pet store later that day, he received a text from Timothy. He was merely checking in to see if Damian wanted to talk anymore about what they’d discussed after patrol the other evening. He let him know he was available if he decided he did need to talk about it more, but wasn’t pushy about it. The ball was very much in Damian’s side of the court, which he appreciated. 

Damian glanced at his father, who was speaking to the store owner about getting in some products for their more unique pets. 

It sounded like the matter between his father and Timothy was going to be settled soon, and it really didn’t have anything to do with Damian at that point, so he decided to eave it alone. Instead, he texted to let Timothy know he was getting Phoebe. He reasoned that he wasn't just texting for no reason as he did with Dick. Timothy was his primary source of pet care information. It was practical to let the other boy know.

Timothy texted back, congratulating him on his new pet, complimenting the name selection, and giving him a little more information about alpaca keeping. After the incident with Jerry’s head changing colors, no one wanted Damian to be caught off guard by something one of his pets would do naturally, if unexpectedly. 

Damian finished shopping with his father. He texted Dick and received a photo of Phoebe wearing her new halter. He turned his attention to his studies, chores, and training for the remainder of the day. The issues regarding his father’s adopted children seemed to be taken care of, at least as far as Damian was concerned. 

Until he received a call from Jason later that evening. His brother got straight to the point, not bothering with any typical greeting once Damian answered. “Okay, why the hell does Dad think we need to talk or that I feel like he betrayed me? Beside the obvious ‘not killing the Joker when he had the chance’ thing. ‘Cause this definitely wasn’t about that.”

Damian glared at nothing in particular as he listened. “Father tried to make amends with _you_?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause apparently _you_ put the idea into his head that I feel like he broke his promises, failed to express my value properly, and betrayed me by letting me die or some shit. I don’t know. I was trying to figure out if he was drunk or drugged by that point.” A muffled groan suggested that Jason had ran a hand over his face as he did so. “Look, I don’t know where the fuck this came from -and I appreciate that you’re trying to take an interest or whatever, _I do_\- but Dad and I are finally in a pretty good place so I’d appreciate it if you just left well enough alone. Okay?”

“I didn’t put any ideas into Father’s head! I specifically said it was a hypothetical! And it certainly wasn’t about _you_!” Damian huffed out a breath in irritation. His attempt to aid his father’s relationship with Dick had gone so well. He assumed the issue with Timothy would likewise be taken care of in a prompt manner once he intervened. 

Jason explained their father’s actions as best he could. He sounded a little irritated himself. “Well, I guess the last time you asked a hypothetical, it was actually about Dick. So Dad assumed this one was about one of us, too and -lucky me- I ended up being the one he assumed was the problem. Since everything went so well with Golden Boy when he talked to _him_, Dad figured we needed a little chat too. _I don’t do heart-to-hearts_, brat.”

That irritated Damian even further. “Does a heart-to-heart sound like anything I would _ever_ suggest? I simply proposed a hypothetical to see how Father would respond if the issue were brought up to him. And I decided it would be better left alone! I certainly didn’t encourage him to call anyone, let alone you! He did _that_ all on his own.”

Damian huffed. He decided this sort of irritation was exactly why he should stay out of his siblings personal affairs in the future. “But then Father said he understood and was going to handle it. It wasn’t any of my business how he did that, so I left it alone. And even if he had truly figured out what I was asking after, I never suggested that Drake was a problem! What I said-”

“Wait. This is about _Tim_?” Between his tone and his closeness with Timothy, there was no way Jason was going to let that go. 

“Dammit.” Damian groaned quietly. 

Jason’s tone was firm, and just this side of menacing. “What’s this about, Damian?”

He couldn’t recall all of the specific details, but Damian filled Jason in on his conversation with Timothy while they drove home from the Kent’s farm the other week, about his father’s relationship with his other children. Then he told him about what he’d learned the previous night. “Clearly there’s something wrong with Drake…or their relationship. Either way, Father relies on Drake too much to let it fester. We all do. I simply thought, if the issue could be remedied as easily as the issue with Richard, then it was worth considering. 

“But Father’s response to my hypothetical scenario suggested it _wouldn’t_ be that easy. So I intended to leave it, but Father assumed he understood…and well, you see how it turned out.” Damian sighed. He hated to admit to being substandard at anything, but this issue really was outside his skill set. “This isn’t my area of expertise, Todd. _You_ take care of it.”

“I already am.” Jason's tone was like steel wrapped in sheer silk. Firm enough to break someone with a weak attempt at softening the threat. “Look, I agree with you that this is a problem that needs to be addressed, but not yet. I need you to leave it alone for now.”

Damian hadn’t intended to pursue the issue any further, but the protectiveness and concern in Jason’s voice, along with the underlying threat in his tone, told him the situation was more serious than he’d assumed. He frowned, even if his big brother couldn’t see him. “I was already planning to leave it, but why should it wait?”

Jason hesitated for a moment. His tone was still firm, but with slightly more care taken in softening it this time. “I’m not going to go into any details, okay? But when the Joker kidnapped Tim…he left him in a bad way. Not just the physical wounds. Trust me, that kind of situation leaves you all kinds of fucked up.”

Jason sounded sad, bitter, protective, remorseful, disappointed, and proud all at once as he spoke of their brother’s recent run in with the Rogue. And of their father’s reaction to it. “Tim… He was always less sure of where he stood with Dad than the rest of us. And Dad didn’t make it any easier to figure out. Between that, what the Joker did, and the way Dad responded to it initially, Timmy needs to heal a little more before we can expect him to open up enough to talk to Dad abut this stuff. 

“You don’t open yourself up to another potential beating like that until the wounds from the last one have healed. That’s one of the first things we learn in our line of work. It applies here too.” Jason’s tone was concerned in a different way. Almost like he was concerned for both of his little brothers. “You understand?” 

Damian did. He could accept that line of reasoning. “Yeah.” 

Lately, whenever Damian had a problem, he always knew he had someone he could turn to for advice or support, or even just to use as a soundboard. The issue at hand directed him naturally to a different sibling, his Father, Pennyworth, or Jon. He realized that he didn’t offer any of them the same in return, but he assumed that didn’t matter because they had each other as well. It sounded like Jason had the situation with Timothy well in hand. Damian had no reason to be concerned any further. 

Still, he felt a strange need to make sure. He told himself it was because he was simply Jason’s better. It made sense to see if someone sub-par to yourself needed assistance. After all, that’s what he did every night as Robin. “You’re taking care of this…issue, then?”

Jason sounded both relieved and amused. “Yeah. No need to worry yourself, brat. I’m on top of it.” His voice held a touch of sincerity when he added, “Thanks though.”

Damian decided to trust Jason to take care of the problem. Or at least, take care of it until Timothy was up to addressing his issues with their father. In any case, it was being handled. He didn’t need to dwell on it. “Good. Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“I appreciate that.” Jason sounded amused. Before Damian could take offense, he changed the subject. “So what’s this I hear about you and Dick rescuing an alpaca?”

Damian filled Jason in on how he acquired Phoebe. He sent him the photo Dick had sent of her wearing her new halter and answered a couple questions about alpacas (using information he’d gotten from Timothy). 

After congratulating him on his new pet, Jason surprised Damian with a casual offer. “Let me know if you need any help setting up for her. I don’t know if the stall gates we made for the barn are small enough to keep an alpaca in. We could throw something else together pretty quickly though.”

Damian hadn’t considered that. He was glad his brother brought it up before Phoebe arrived. “I’ll measure them in the morning and inform you and Drake if I require any assistance.”

“You do that.” Jason paused for a brief moment. “Although, if you had Timbers look into alpacas, what are the odds he didn’t consider if the barn was secure for her?”

That was true. Still, Damian would double check. He wanted everything to be perfect for when Phoebe arrived. 

He talked to Jason for a little while longer before his brother had to end the call. Damian rarely spoke to Jason outside of times he required assistance in managing his violent tendencies or anger, or events that essentially forced them together. He enjoyed it more than he’d expected to. He decided he’d mention it to Dick the next time they talked. 

A few evenings later, Damian hadn’t heard anything more on the issue between his father and Timothy. Everything seemed to be fine between everyone and he was happy to put it out of mind, so he wasn’t concerned. Life had pretty much gone back to normal, except that he was talking to Dick more often, he recognized more of Alfred’s fond gestures than he had before, and his father was slightly better at explaining himself in most instances.

Batman and Robin were driving along in the Batmobile during patrol. It had been a fairly busy night, but nothing beyond the usual crimes Gotham saw on a daily basis. Damian was expecting to be brought home soon and wondering what excuse his father would come up with that evening. 

Instead, his father paused in a way he did whenever he was receiving some text information over the interface build into his cowl. Then he spoke in a very no-nonsense tone. “Robin, an issue’s come up that I need to handle alone. Stay in the car.”

Damian wasn’t happy at the order, but he had to acknowledge that his father was usually better at explaining himself lately. That meant the issue he’d been called away to was likely important. He tried to follow the order despite his irritation.

He truly did. 

But then he saw a man clearly threatening a store owner for protection money in the alley across from the one the Batmobile was parked in. He left the Batmobile and pursued the criminal. The man was moving quickly, clearly heading somewhere with a purpose. 

Damian hesitated when he realized they had entered Red Hood’s territory. While he and Jason were getting along well lately, his second eldest brother always made it clear he didn’t want Batman or Robin in his dominion. Still, Damian figured he could quickly apprehend the criminal and be gone before his brother ever knew he’d been there. He followed the man into a dark alleyway and got ahead in order to drop down right in front of him. 

The man appeared startled for a second, until he recognized that it was Robin in front of him. His eyes quickly darted around the alleyway, clearly checking to see if the Batman or one of the former Robins was there as well. Damian glared when the man called out.

“Its okay. Its just the kid.”

Before Damian could comment that he wasn’t ‘just’ anything, several armed men emerged at the other end of the alley. The man he’d been pursuing had an odd tattoo on his neck. Damian had noted it but not thought much of it. He realized that had been a mistake. Each of the other men had identical tattoos. Clearly, he was dealing with one of Gotham’s gangs. It wasn’t one of the big ones, because he could recognized their distinguishing marks or colors. 

Still, even a new or small gang could be a problem when one was outnumbered and outside their home turf. Damian turned to face the newcomers. Two of the men drew firearms, one drew a sword, others pulled out brass knuckles or chains. 

One stepped forward and tapped a crowbar against his hand as he smirked at Robin. “I think we need to teach the big, bad Bat what happens when he lets his little birdie fly too far from the roost.”

Damian drew his sakabatō, but before anything more could be done, a bullet tore through the hand of the criminal in front of him, causing him to shout out in pain and drop the crowbar. Another bullet sank into the leg of the man closest to Damian (who had been drawing a gun) before the crowbar had even hit the ground. The other gang members shouted, calling out to whoever had fire to show themselves or trying to get the others to flee. 

They quickly silenced, even the ones who had been shot muffled their cries. Each was starring at the end of the alleyway behind Damian. He didn’t need to turn to see why. He heard the boots hitting the ground as a large body steadily made its way down the ally. He knew it was intentional. Despite his intimidating size, the man behind him could move as silent a ghost when he wanted to.

“I thought I made myself clear before-” 

The helmet filtered the Red Hood’s voice slightly. There was something else to it as well, a nearly forgotten anger that Jason kept under control when he wasn’t wearing the helmet. It would have frightened Damian, had he been a normal boy and had the Red Hood not been strategically placing himself between him and his would be assailants as he spoke. It definitely frightened the gang members.

“-You don’t mess with kids on my turf.”

The gang member who had been shot in the leg pointed at Damian with the hand that wasn’t staunching the bleeding. “But-!”

Whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by a pained sob when Red Hood’s boot pressed down on his injured leg.

“You _don’t_-” He pressed his boot down more firmly. “Mess with _kids_-” He twisted it slightly. “In _my territory_.” He pointed the gun he was holding at the man’s other leg. “Understood?”

The man was crying openly at that point. He was also swearing that he’d never hurt another child as long as he lived. The other gang members, who appeared frozen in place, began making similar promises. 

“Good.” The Red Hood stepped back. “Now get the fuck out of here while I still think its worth letting you go to spread the message.” His head raised to look at the men still standing, he motioned toward the man on the ground with the gun that was still firmly in his hand. “Take him with you.”

While they were complying, he turned halfway toward Damian. “I don’t like _him_ in my territory either.” He motioned toward something above them. The gang members shouted something about the Batman and began hurrying. Damian could make out a familiar silhouette at the top of the building. “So you need to get him and get out, too.”

Damian turned back to the Red Hood. The alley was empty save for them. Damian highly doubted the man he’d chased would be causing any trouble after that night. 

“And stay away from here in the future, Boy Wonder.” The Red Hood’s voice sounded much the same as it had when he began speaking, but there was a note to it. Not a threat, but a genuine warning. “Its dangerous.”

Damian normally would have lashed out at the dismissal, but he understood that Jason needed to keep a certain image of Red Hood. He couldn’t appear to be on too good of terms with Batman and Robin. He also genuinely didn’t like them working in his territory without at least checking in first. Damian also knew he would already be in trouble with his father. He didn’t need to add to it by starting a fight with his big brother at an inopportune time. 

He fired his grapple and got onto the roof he’d seen his father’s silhouette on, but his father was no where to be seen. He began walking cautiously over the roof, figuring either his father would pop out from one shadow or another or an enemy would. Instead, he suddenly heard Timothy’s voice speak from behind him. 

“He isn’t here. Its just me.”

Damian spun around but managed to refrain from attacking the other boy. He was annoyed that he’d been startled by him but there was no way he was going to acknowledge that. “You’re too small to have made that shadow.”

“It was a hologram.” Timothy explained simply. “Works great against criminals when you don’t want them to know you’re out solo. I’ll make you one.” He offered a small shrug. “Might come in handy.”

“I suppose it might.” Damian frowned. He liked the idea of getting some new tech. Always did. Especially from Timothy, even if he’d never tell the other boy that. 

However, he didn’t understand what the ruse had been about. The gang members were plenty terrified of the Red Hood. They hadn’t needed a Batman sighting on top of that. Which meant it hadn’t been for them. He glared at the implication. “I could have handled myself on the trip back.”

“We know. It doesn’t mean we want anyone trying to stop you.” Timothy didn’t sound coddling or condescending. His tone was much the same as when he did things to make either of their older brothers’ or sister’s nights easier. “Besides, Red wasn’t sure if you’d be so willing to leave on his orders without comment and he didn’t want to have to prove a point. We figured you’d leave without issue if Batman was waiting.

“Either of us would have when we wore the R.” Timothy gave a small, elegant shrug and them waved for Damian to follow him. “C’mon. Lets get you out of Red’s territory. I’ve got business on the other end of the city anyway and Batman will kill us if we just let you take off on your own.”

The reminder that Timothy was accompanying him to avoid their father’s wrath rather than because he suspected it was needed was enough to make Damian bite back the harsh response that was on the edge of his tongue. Instead, he readied his grapple. “Very well. If you’re heading that direction anyway, we might as well patrol together along the way.”

They stopped a mugging and a carjacking on the way. Then they stopped on a building just above the alley where the Batmobile was parked. Batman was nowhere to be seen. 

Timothy turned to Damian. “You gonna tell him what happened?”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What does it matter to you?”

“Relax, will you?” Timothy shook his head and huffed out a breath. “I’m not trying to start anything. Okay? Gees, I just want to know so me or Red don’t accidentally contradict whatever you tell him if he brings it up later on.”

Damian hadn’t considered that. Getting caught disobeying a direct order, trespassing into Red Hood’s territory, and getting himself outnumbered by a gang he couldn’t even identify were all likely to get him into big enough trouble on their own. Add to that being caught lying about said events, and he was looking at a very serious lecture and long-term grounding. “And you’d be willing to support my claims if I told him something other than the truth?”

“So long as it isn’t ridiculous, yeah. We’ll cover you.” Timothy spoke as if such a thing were no big deal. “You didn’t get hurt. I think you learned anything you were going to from the incident itself. And its not like either of us never lied to Batman when we were Robin.”

Damian arched a brow. “This is one of ‘things’ you all keep saying brothers do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Timothy grinned lightly. “It is.”

Damian understood it when Dick did things like that for him. He understood when Dick or Jason did the same for each other, or Jason and Timothy. Considering Jason’s attempts to prevent Damian from following the same path he did (and meeting a similar end), he supposed it made sense for Jason to do that for him. Especially since he was often less than thrilled with their father’s partnering methods. And sometimes, his parenting methods.

Timothy, however, was very loyal to their father, even with the issues Damian had recently discovered. He had very little reason to be loyal to Damian. So he didn’t understand why the other boy so often appeared to be.

“I was never particularly welcoming toward you. I haven’t treated you nicely by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve taken nearly everything you held dear when I first came into my father’s life.” He looked the other boy over. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Timothy looked at him for a moment. With the cowl on, it was impossible for Damian to tell what he was thinking. “You mean…at you?” He frowned slightly. “Why would I be mad at you?” He sounded truly confused on that point.

Damian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He frowned as well, irritated. “I doubt you’ve forgotten about the bomb or the dinosaur. Or the time I cut your line. Or the times I’ve tried to stab you. Or any of the times I’ve pointed out that you’re an orphan.”

Clearly, Timothy remembered. He pulled down his cowl to look at Damian. He appeared sad and disappointed, but also understanding. And compassionate, as always. 

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but we were _children_. The adults should have stepped in more during all of that. They should have helped you understand why your actions were wrong. They should have protected me so I didn’t have to take you on myself. Instead, they mostly left it for us to work out. Of course we kept messing up. 

“How could we not?” He placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “I don’t like what we did. I don’t like that it took us this long to get here. But I don’t blame _you_. So why would I be mad at you?”

Looking into the other boy’s face, Damian couldn’t find any sign of falsehood. Timothy wasn’t only being kind. He wasn’t trying to keep the peace. He wasn’t putting on a front. He wasn’t attempting to lure Damian into a false sense of security with him. As far as Damian could tell, he was telling the truth.

“I think there’s something very wrong with you, Drake.” He shook his head. Slightly in amusement, slightly in confusion. “I don’t understand you.”

“No names.” The reminder was gentle, even fond. Timothy wore the slightest hint of a smile. “You will. One day. If we try not to kill each other long enough.”

“Well, I suppose that’s as good a reason as any to let you continue to live.” Despite himself, Damian offered the smallest of grins back. 

“Try to remember that. And this: no matter what else you are, you’ll always be my brother.” Timothy quickly stepped forward to give his brother a quick embrace. His chin was resting on Damian’s shoulder, causing the words that came next to be spoken almost directly into his ear. “I love you.”

He pulled away before Damian could recover from his surprise at those words and actions. Damian thought that was wise, as he knew he’d be likely to shove the other boy away. At least, he would always tell himself that’s how he would have responded if he hadn’t been so stunned. 

Timothy pulled his cowl back up right away. His posture was perfect. There was no indication of what had just passed. Despite not being able to see his face, Damian understood the silent promise. He wouldn’t tell anyone what had just passed. He knew Damian wouldn’t want that and he genuinely wanted them to get along. 

He was willing to try to meet halfway. 

Damian had to ask himself; was he willing to do the same?

“Text me later. Let me know what you told B.” Timothy approached the edge of the rooftop. He turned to look at Damian again as he added one more comment. “Oh, and next time you find yourself on your own out there, give one of us a call. Remember, we’ve got your back.”

With that, Timothy leaped off the roof, extending his Inertrite wings in midair and soaring toward a distant rooftop.

Damian watched him for a moment, then readied his grapple and lowered himself down into the alleyway below. He got back inside the Batmobile a few minutes before his father returned. 

His father got into the car and looked at him for a brief moment. “I thought I told you to wait in the car?”

Damian frowned. “How do you know I didn’t?” The frown turned into a light glare. “Were you watching me?”

“No. You just told me.” His father smirked and started the Batmobile. “You know, your brothers were much better liars. I guess the powers that be finally decided to cut me a break with you.”

Damian crossed arms and scowled at the front of the Batmobile, not amused. “I simply got out to stop a mugging across the street. Then I had a brief chat with Red Robin atop the building directly next to the car. Its not like I _went_ anywhere.”

His father still wore that tiny smirk. 

Damian continued to scowl. Until his father spoke next. 

“Well, since I can’t trust you to follow an order like, say, ‘go straight back to the Cave’. I guess I’ll have to take you there myself.” There was no heat to his father’s words. He wasn’t irritated. 

It was just another of the excuses he’d discovered his father made simply to drive him home.

Damian smirked. “I see where I get my inability to lie well to family from.”

His father laughed quietly. “I never doubted it.” He released the wheel with one hand to quickly muss his son’s hair before returning his focus to driving. “That’s okay. We can fool the criminals and the press more than easily enough. That’s where it counts.”

Alfred met them in the Cave as always and looked them over to check for any sign of injury or fatigue as he did so. Also as always, he had some tea and biscuits waiting for Damian and had already turned down his bed. And again, as always, he tried to talk Damian’s father into calling it a night as well. 

Damian was grinning lightly at the odd showings of affection as he headed upstairs. 

As he sipped his tea, he sent Timothy a text informing him of what he’d told their father. He got a message back assuring him that Timothy would fill Jason in before their father could potentially speak to him. 

Damian thought about the other boy as he prepared for bed. He thought about all the tools and programs he made to help the family out. He thought of the way he answered each of Damian’s questions without fail. He thought of the way he’d talked to him in the car the other day. He thought of the way they’d worked together when they patrolled by themselves the other night. He thought of the things Timothy had said to him that evening. 

In doing so, he made a mental list of all the reasons he should try to meet the other boy halfway. Of all the reasons he should try to understand him better. Of all the reasons he shouldn’t want to eliminate him. 

He had a feeling he’d need it on occasion, as they continued down whatever path they’d started upon. He knew he was likely to lose his temper or lash out at several points along the way. 

He also knew he wanted to see where that road lead them. 

He doubted he and Timothy would ever be the type of brothers he and Dick were. Or that Timothy and Jason were. But perhaps that was alright. Perhaps whatever form of brothers they became, if they managed it, would be worthwhile in a different way. 

Before he fell asleep, he considered something else to add to his mental list of reasons to keep Timothy around. He thought of the moment when Timothy had hugged him. When his arms had wrapped around Damian’s chest and his chin had rested on his shoulder. 

They were nearly the same height. 

Damian certainly couldn’t disperse of the other boy before he had a chance to point that out. 

After all, he’d been assured that teasing was something brothers did too. 

And _that_ was something he could definitely have some fun with.

**Author's Note:**

> Other stories referenced in this one are:  
['Height Checks'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018577), which just shows Damian keeping track of how he's catching up to Tim's height.  
['Bat-Cow and Kit-Cow'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025549), which tells the story of how Damian came to have a second cow and a barn.  
['Batfamily Projects'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661057), which explains why Damian got more turkeys.  
['The Wayne Family Petting Zoo'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336675), which shows how Damian learned to go to his assorted siblings with different problems and also has more BatPet goodness.  
['A Good Day for Damian Wayne'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262827), which has Cassandra and Dick explaining Tim's nature to Damian and a lot of Batkid bonding.


End file.
